write-it-good-imagines

[write-it-good-imagines]

Every Rule Has an Exception – 6

Author's note: hello darlings, long time no see! I'm happy to be back with the newest chapter of our favorite love story. For those of you who are watching it closely, I am beyond grateful and I promise it was worth the wait. Enjoy!

Word count: ±13k

Tropes: friends idiots to lovers || slow burn romance || smut || raw sex || long series || jackson wang || soulmates || original characters || dorks in love || 3rd POV

Absolutely divine?  Who was he talking about, that unknown figure presenting himself with such poise and confidence to Jackson and his friends’ table?

“I don’t think we’ve met yet,” the same man spoke, extending his arm in an amicable manner to Jackson. His voice was calm, collected. “I came by to say hi to everyone, we had a blast last time, didn’t we? I’m Max!”

Ah, Jo was the recipient of the endearing compliment. Absolutely divine. And he was the fabled, talented ex-lover. Max.

“I know she is. Absolutely divine.” Jackson offered his hand in return to firmly shake the other’s. Mark was having too much fun for his own good. So was everyone else at the table. “My name is Jackson.”

All heads turned to the direction of the stage, where the host had just broken through the avalanche of cheers following Jo’s exquisite performance. Mr. Kang kept Jo busy on stage for a short yet well-received talking segment.

“Muy bien. Jackson.” Max acknowledged the other man’s words, his smile growing imperceptibly. “I’ll pass by later to catch up with Jo, too. Maybe we’ll sing something together if she wants.”

Max’s group came over to collect their friend. He retreated his arm, yet maintaining an even gaze upon Jackson. He grinned at everyone at the table before leaving to claim his own.

Jonathan scoffed at the unexpected encounter, somewhat aligned with Jackson’s visibly tightened jaw, “You can say anything you want about that fucker; he’s always got balls.”

Mark, on the other hand, could not contain his chuckles and snorts. Jackson angled his torso to look at him, and Samantha and Leena did not have to question him; they understood each other without spoken words.

“There she comes!” Samantha giggled, clapping her hands once more at Jo. “The star blesses us with her presence!”

“Oh, shut up!” Jo laughed and accepted Jackson’s invitation to sit by his side. The latter draped his arm over the backrest of Jo’s chair, visibly claiming ownership of some of her personal space. All eyes collectively fell upon Jo’s figure, who was still clueless about the most recent episode. “How was it? Did you guys like it?”

If anything, the question was masked to serve Jackson, seeing as the song was an intimate love confession. She turned to glance at him just as he approached her ear to whisper, and his breath fanned against the lobe of her ear. Jackson brushed his fingers over her knee, in search of a suitable spot to settle his touch against her skin. He did not plan to move his hand one bit throughout the rest of the night. “You already are my muse, Joanne.”

Jo giggled at his sudden response, welcoming the warmth of his hand against her knee with a loving pat. Best she could display was a giggle; if it were just the two of them, she would have granted the shiver that ran down her spine at the masculine, but marginally possessive attitude. Jo, admittedly, embraced the change of pace.

“You don’t all have to look at me like that, though,” she remarked as curious eyes circulated peeks around the table. “I’m not going to let this fame get to my head, you know.”

“Who knows? Maybe next time we’ll hear a released a single with Jackson!”

Mark’s mischievous proposal eased the mood at the table. Jo adjusted her position in her chair to cross her legs, and subsequently welcomed Jackson’s hand on her upper thigh, where the dress fabric hovered akin to waves on a shore. She faced Samantha, who wiggled her eyebrows, and the two laughed at Jackson’s vivid display of affection.

Jo’s phone was left unattended on the other end of the table, and, as it lit up in interrupted tempos, it caught Jackson’s attention. His eyes drifted through the crowd to confirm the source of the texts. Maybe in a prevalent positive advantage, Max and his group were seated at a nearby table where they had a crystal clear view of Jackson and Jo’s seats, especially. Jackson waited patiently for the waiter to finish setting the food on the wooden surface before giving Jo back her phone.

“I’ll give it to him,” laughed Jackson, giving a tender squeeze to Jo’s skin to capture her interest. “This guy really has balls.”

Jo shifted her body to study Jackson’s expression. “Who does?”

She took the phone and noticed a series of newly arrived messages from Max.

“Why would he text me?”

“You know, maybe because he came by earlier to introduce himself to me.”

Jo’s eyes widened in complete surprise, and Jackson motioned a vague direction with his head to help the woman pinpoint Max in the density of the crowd. What the source of the conspicuous looks was, all but a moment earlier, became clear as the night sky to Jo.

“You all are terrible,” sighed Jo eventually and Jonathan almost choked on his drink as Mark and Samantha’s cheerful laughter blended with the air.

[rammax]: nice guy, this Jackson

[rammax]: I could’ve sworn you weren’t into posh guys tho

[rammax]: but oh well, I can’t say I really know anymore

[rammax]: is he the man who kept you glued to your phone the other night?

“What were we supposed to do?” Leena shrugged her shoulders, pushing the pizza plate closer to Jo. She took a slice. “Oh, Jo, your ex-boyfriend just dropped by to say hi?”

Mark leaned over the table to look at Jo, a sheepish smile earning an irked one from Jackson. Not that anyone else could tell, but Mark.

“You’ll see him again, anyway. He said he’ll come greet you and sing something with you.”

“Babe!” Samantha swatted his knee under the table, although fairly enjoying the tease herself.

Jo broke the conversation by snatching a slice of pizza to indulge in it. Jonathan switched the topic at hand, and they engaged in it. Except Jackson, who reached closer to Jo, and was respectful enough not to read through the texts, yet grew to regret that he did not.

“You’re not going to reply to that?”

“Why would I? I’m with you and I want to enjoy our time together.”

Jackson clicked his tongue. “He doesn’t seem like the patient type to me.”

Another fast-paced vibration of the mobile phone essentially reinforced Jackson’s affirmation. As much as Jo adored his features, his I-told-you-so visage was not among her favorite ones. Jo picked up the device, showing Jackson the new texts. “As I said, nothing to hide.”

[rammax]: you can read my texts all you want

[rammax]: he moves his hand any higher, he might as well finger you under the table, bonita

And Jackson took it as a personal challenge to slide his fingers an inch higher. As she lifted her eyes, she observed that Max and Jackson were carrying on a staring showdown.

“Stop, Jackson,” Jo murmured, maintaining a porcelain smile on her face. “I am not an object you fight over. This is silly.”

[jmontgomery]: this is low, even for you

[rammax]: this guy has nerve

[jmontgomery]: nerve for what? what’s it to you Max?

[rammax]: what’s it to him to touch you like that?

[rammax]: as far as I saw, he never claimed on any social you two are in a relationship

[rammax]: tell me I’m wrong and I’ll apologize to him personally

Jo put her phone screen down on the wooden surface of the table and pushed her chair back to stand up. “Excuse me, dears. You’ll never notice I was gone.”

“Where are you going?” Jonathan wondered but then noted Jackson’s intense character. “Oh.”

Mark seized the opportunity to call for another beer. “This is the funniest thing I’ve seen in a while. Man, I wish Jinyoung were here.”

Jo walked away from the table ahead of any additional reactions from her friends. She headed toward a smoking area adjacent to the restaurant, and she did not have to wait long before Max showed up, cigarette pack in hand. She folded her arms over her chest, watching the other as he placed the roll of tobacco between his lips. Her brain had to accommodate momentarily to the switch to both their mother tongue, Spanish.

“That was a beautiful representation of Für Elise. I didn’t think I’d hear such a passionate love song from you any time soon.”

“Thank you,” Jo stated simply, “but we both know my vocal prowess is not why you’re out here.”

Max nodded his head, leaning against the doorframe. In the thickness of the crowd, both were protected in that slight area by the door. Max savored the nicotine in his lungs and depicted a smirk to the shorter female in front of him. “You’re so sexy when you’re mad. You always turned me on whenever we fought.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Jo wished to walk away, but Max gently grabbed her wrist to stop her in her tracks.

“Why did you come out here, then?” he asked, irises softening at her figure. “You could have ignored me.”

“Well, apparently, I couldn’t. Not if you keep taunting Jackson and consequently wreck the mood at our table with your antics.”

Jo squirmed her wrist out of Max’s grip, and he dropped it voluntarily. He chuckled, tending to a lonesome ashtray. “He should just be the bigger person, then.”

“You know what?” Jo twisted her body to face the other. The doll heels helped her even the height difference lightly, and, under any other circumstances, Max would have provoked her further. The newfound determination in her orbs, sparkling a palpable canyon between them that hadn’t been there the other night they shared the stage, and to his mind, their hearts, had Max thinking otherwise.

“Sooner or later, it would have come to this. I care about Jackson very much. I care about what he thinks, and about his dreams, and more than anything, I care about his peace. I am in no position to tell what he will do next if you keep on mocking him, so this is why I am here to talk to you as friendly as I can.”

The forgotten cigarette burned in the ashtray, as were Max’s lungs.

“I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am for leaving you like that. You never deserved it, and I admit I did a terrible thing. I loved you, Max, and I thought to myself I loved you for a long time after I walked away. But I don’t anymore. I ask you to drop this macho act and let me go. You don’t need to forgive me; I just hope you won’t suffer any longer because of me. And because of us, for that matter.”

Max jerked his head to the side to retrieve the cigarette butt and fill his lungs with the nicotine. He palmed it with his fingers as he dropped his hand to seize her eyes. He never found what he was searching for.

“Do you love him?” he ultimately asked, crumpling the last of his cigarette.

It was easy for Jo to answer his question. Perhaps some time before would have been tougher, less natural to think of the truth. Not anymore.

“I do. I’m falling more in love with him every day.”

Max leaned his back against the metal frame, head supported by the cold sensation of the material. “Gosh, I wish I could kiss you right now.”

Jo looked away. “I hope you don’t. I hope we could part ways in good spirits.”

The man raked his hand through his copper waves, tugging scarcely at them. He sighed loudly, observing the tapestry of the outside setting briefly before landing his olive orbs on her silhouette.

“I wish I would’ve hugged you more, kissed you more, loved you more. Maybe you wouldn’t have left if I had.”

Jo examined him, only to find buried sadness in the rings of silver of his eyes. Despite everything, he pushed through to smile.

“I had countless women after you left. Slept with them, catered to them, fucked around with them. At the end of the day, they were not you. I always hoped that when I’d finally meet you, see you again, I’d draw you back to me. At least for a little while, I hoped. And I got my hopes up so badly when we performed the other day.”

There was pain in breaking a person afresh, and the pain was sharp, stinging when giving it to somebody one loved. Jo knew she had to listen, to memorize his features, to get to the closure Max needed. It was only a matter of time to put a treasured chapter to rest, yet it did not mean it was a fairytale ending.

“You asked me to let you go as if it were that simple. I tried, Joanne, I really did, but you’re just that sinful and that special, and I held on to the fantasy of you.” Max laughed remorsefully, and Jo recognized that overly expressive exterior of his. He was on the verge of crying.

“You’re breaking my heart, Maximilian.”

He laughed again, seemingly livelier. “Much obliged. Is this how you feel when people finally grow to know your real name?”

Jo chuckled and rummaged through the pocket of her dress to take out a sealed pack of cigarettes. “You asked me why I quit. Partly because it reminded me of you, and partly because I wanted to give up the bad decisions in my life.”

“I see,” Max nodded and brought a hand up to wipe his burning eyes. He then took out another cigarette and lit it up. “Thank you. I know you merely came out here to settle things with me, but I needed this. Hurts as hell, still, but it’s worth it to me.”

Jo noticed a trash can and dropped her unopened pack inside. Freedom of the heart never came painless.

“I’m rooting for you two. Goodbye, amor.”

The woman clutched the door handle. “Goodbye, Max.”

As Jo returned to her friends, the group simultaneously halted their previous activities to greet her back, as inconspicuously as they managed. The woman laughed at the blatant failure. Upon a quick check, Jackson noticed Max had not come back to his previous seat.

“Come on, Jo,” Leena gestured over the leftover pizza. “It got crusty while you were out.”

“Ah, it’s fine, I’m not shying away from cold pizza. Even if it’s on par with some of the most disgusting things made by man. And the ice in my cocktail is all melted, too.”

“I’ll get you a new one.” Jackson offered, who was a tad too far from Jo’s proximity. While the broader group got busy with another topic, in another futile attempt to lift the ridiculous curiosity, Jo angled her body to speak to him.

“What are you sitting so far away for?”

Jackson was caught off guard. “What? I’m not.”

“No?” Jo tapped her index to her chin. She crossed her legs to mirror her former position. “I believe you were cloaking my chair and my upper thigh, unless I’m mistaken.”

He exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry. I acted like a total dick and disregarded your feelings.”

Jo agreed. “You did. I’m fine with displays of affection in public, and to a certain degree, being possessive turns me on. But this was not the time to do it.”

Jackson acknowledged her words through a gesture of the head. “Got it. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I’ll tell you all about it, but not here. I want to enjoy our time out together,” Jo snickered and entwined her fingers through his to bring back his touch upon her thigh. Jackson raised an eyebrow at her swift actions. Jo’s assertive tone was intensely seductive to induce a smirk on his lips. “Come closer now!”

He responded with a tantalizing squeeze of her flesh, and Jo could swear another phase of their connection had just begun, in the most arousing of aspects.

“Before I do that,” began Jackson, not betraying any inflections in his voice. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to sing something with me.”

Jo appraised his inquiry, and she had to admit she was taken aback by it. “Really? You do know you’d probably swing a huge green flag, advertising the fact that two of Got7’s members are here tonight.”

Jackson laughed. She found the most zealous sounds of the heart in his unconcerned laugh, and his eyes radiated the same signs of affection when he held her heart in the palms of his hands back at his apartment.

“I’ll let you pick the song.”

Jo giggled and couldn’t help but feel foolish for asking the question in the first place.

“Let’s do Feeling Lucky then.”

“Oh?” Jackson beamed at her song desire. “I’ll be right back!”

Mark observed the airy skip in Jackson’s step and gulped down the rest of his second beer.

“Is he really requesting a song?” Samantha pointed out the obvious, yet unbelievable fact. “It’s going to swarm with fans in here pretty soon.”

Mark leaned over the table to proudly validate his beliefs. Jo was happily indulging in her cold pizza. “That’s guerilla tactics 101 by Jackson Wang. And you know what? I don’t even care it’s going to swarm in here. I’m so fucking proud. We’ll just have to figure out how we’ll get you girls home to your sleepover.”

Jo wiggled her eyebrows, still munching on the last pizza slice.

“I’ll take them, it’s fine.” Jonathan chuckled and clinked his glass to Mark’s. “You’ll have your own assess to worry about.”

A sudden outburst of noises reverberated through the bar when Jackson walked on stage and introduced himself as part of Got7. Mark pursued the opening with a wave of his hand, adding fuel to the cheers. Jo evaluated the situation and decided to finish her pizza while she had the time.

“Right, thank you everyone for the warm welcome. To be fair, I’m still under the impression that no one would welcome us this warmly here anymore.”

“Always the comedian,” Mark commented at Jackson’s words. A waiter came by the table to bring a round of tequila shots for the drinking group.

Leena agreed at once. “He must be delusional if he thinks that people wouldn’t recognize you in your own city.”

“And so, I’m sure you remember the talented lady who opened our karaoke night. I asked her to sing a song with me, and she accepted!”

Jo downed her shot to muffle the applause. She straightened her dress as she stood up, running a hand through her chestnut locks. The bizarre sensation of being followed at every move as she walked up to Jackson, left unattended, could become overwhelming. Despite all the casual bravado of being comfortable with public attention, Jo wondered how Samantha felt when she was suddenly rushed under the magnifying glass, for simply being with the person she loved.

Jackson held her by the hand to meet her on stage with a private, encouraging smile. “You okay?”

Maybe it wasn’t half bad when Samantha had all of Mark’s unwavering support. And it couldn’t have been half bad if she had Jackson by her side.

“I’m fine. It’s going to take me some time to get used to all of this.”

Jackson handed her the other microphone, never losing the eye-contact. “That’s okay, just lean on me.”

He let go of her hand when the song's instrumental started playing, yet there was no real reason to part from the proximity of one another, particularly due to the nature of the song. There was nothing make-believe in the verses; Jo chose it because it depicted both their realities, and the fact that Jackson was so eager, too eager, to accept, could only mean he reciprocated the sentiments in their entirety.

Somethin’ about the way you kiss it / Don’t ever stop, you know you started some—

Even when you’re away, I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you

Samantha sighed, out of love for the two protagonists rather than anything else. “Sometimes I wish I had the vocal prowess to do that.”

Mark wrapped his arm around her middle and laughed. “Don’t worry babe, that’s not our style anyway.”

The intimacy that Jo and Jackson surrounded themselves in was roughly palpable, in Jackson’s movements and in Jo’s subtle, longing smirks. If Jo stole glances at the audience to play, then Jackson was unequivocally dedicated to her only.

It’s bittersweet every time you’re leavin’ / I say goodbye and turn around, because you know I need it–

Max was watching the spectacle from his seat, fingers drumming distractedly at the romantic tableau being sketched before his very eyes. Against all odds, a part of him was delighted that his precious lover found a man who looked at her as if she could bring the end of the world and he would be thankful he lived in it.

The way you think about me / I think about you, I do, it’s true.

The end of the song found Jo and Jackson breathing each other’s air in an exhilarating closeness. The man cloaked her in a hug, shielding her from any intruders of their intimacy.

“I am so lucky I met you,” Jackson whispered before pulling away. Amidst some scarce flashes coming from the audience, the following day’s pictures would probably find her admiring Jackson’s profile, in a rock-solid argument of a woman unmistakably in love.

Saturday morning whimsically invaded Jo’s senses, with its lazy morning glows through the crack of translucent curtains, and late bird noises dwelling on outside orange branches. She woke up 30 minutes prior to her alarm, and she appreciated the opportunity to go earlier on her morning run. It did not feel that long ago that fateful moment of her arrival in Seoul, the fateful reunion with her long-time confidant Samantha; at a fateful juncture of her life set to embark on an undreamt course.

“That was so fucking romantic!” Leena giggled, wiping the mascara off her eyelashes in Samantha’s bathroom. “You should have seen how he looked at you and you only!”

“I think I did. I mean, I tried,” Jo smiled and helped herself with a hanger to keep her dress in shape. “I was so nervous, though.”

“That’s quite uncharacteristic of you to say,” Samantha chortled. “I won’t blame you for it, though. Anyone would be in that position.” She approached Jo to give a pat on the shoulder. “I can tell you a bit about my experience when our news exploded out. Your legs look better than mine, so I’d say you have nothing to fear.”

“Ah, shut up. You’re fit as hell.”

The three ladies laughed in unison. “What’s the plan? I mean, what comes next for Joanne Montgomery?”

Leena’s question had gone unanswered up to the present point, and Jo struggled to find a proper answer for it. It was easy to imagine the future when she was giddy, secluded in the intimacy of the exultant moments she shared with Jackson. As she returned to the day-to-day activities, her duties, her company, and all the responsibilities in between, lines returned to their blurry segments.

The only clear thing was that a future to plan could exist. A future that Jo did not have to plan all by herself.

Jo slowed down the pace when her smartwatch started vibrating, and she picked up the incoming call.

“Good morning, Jaebum-ssi!”

 “Oh, yes, good morning, Jo-ssi! I hope I am not disturbing.”

“Not at all! I am almost done with my run, I’m heading home to make breakfast. What can I help you with?”

“Ah, no, I just called to tell you that Yugyeom and I are almost at the house. And to say that you can contact the catering service any time you want, we’ll be there. Although I am not extremely comfortable with you paying for everything.”

Jo chuckled. Truly, a bird does not fall far from its nest. “Come on, don’t overthink it. It’s my pleasure! Thank you for letting me know about the members’ coffee and sweets preferences! I’ll see you in about an hour and a half maybe? You’re just too early.”

She distinguished Jaebum’s smile over the phone. “What are you talking about? We’re just about in time!”

After her conversation with Got7’s leader, Jo headed home to prepare her morning meal and two drinking containers with herbal tea, one to fuel her energy, and the other for Jackson. It was enough for him to scarcely mention that it helped boost his mood, and Jo registered it as a must whenever they would share their routine. Clothes she had prepared the night before, and the only missing piece in her photographer’s luggage were the two sets of portable microphones left to charge overnight. Jo opted for her natural wavy-curls hairstyle, plus adding a light touch of makeup, with rose blush, white highlighter, and bronzer to finish up.

The Uber journey to the location turned out shorter than expected, and when Jo entered the front door of the house, Jaebum and Yugyeom were having an intense discussion about the placement of the two soft boxes they had rented, as well as the silver panel they settled for as background.

“I’m telling you hyung, it’s better to put it next to this wall because it’s larger.”

“Even if it is, there’s too little natural light filling that space.”

“Why do we have the soft boxes then?”

A lot of the other decorations had already been installed; the green Happy Birthday string sign, a large collection of inflated green and white balloons was scattered across the wide living room, and a separate table with party accessories was placed in a corner. The setup was very welcoming.

“Good morning, captains of misfit!” Jo chuckled and the two men instantly turned to her to greet her with polite dips of the head. “Don’t worry, Jaebum-ssi, we can do it as Yugyeom wants. These soft boxes are big enough to soften the darkness.”

Jaebum rushed over to take the bag off Jo’s shoulders, mainly to avoid Yugyeom’s I-told-you-so annoying look.

“Thank you, Jo! I’m happy someone gives me the justice I deserve for once.”

The leader abruptly turned to Yugyeom. “Did you just not use honorifics with Jo-ssi?”

“That’s why I keep on telling you to drop them, oppa. If the Universe has its way, you’re going to see me a hell of a lot more.”

There was an unspoken satisfaction in the fact that Jaebum was, indeed, the older figure. He never doubted Jo’s professionalism, nor her personality; it was just who he was as a person. Which was also deviated from the fact that Jo was the same age as Bam and Yugyeom.

Jo clapped her hands once to grab their already thin attention spawn. A cold shiver ran down her spine at the prospect of having to mediate all seven of them. “Thank you for setting everything up! Have you configured the camera yet?”

“Not yet. Please, make yourself comfortable with it. It’s in the bag on the couch.”

Jo took her laptop out of her backpack and the microphones to test their connectivity with Jaebum’s camera. She quickly associated the camera model with her software and was very pleased with the smooth flow of things.

“Ah, Jo, I meant to tell you something.”

She hummed. “Sure, anything Yugyeom.”

“I know Bambam sold me out that we stalked you, but I meant to say that I respect you as a fellow dancer, and I hope you’ll introduce Kyle to us someday.”

Jo laughed at his sudden confession. She verified her smartwatch; the scheduled time of her Python dance with Jackson was just about to drop. “You’re so kind, thank you! I did have a surprise one for you guys, right about…now.”

Yugyeom walked over to her to fetch his phone from the couch and let out a long sigh of appreciation. Curious about the impromptu shenanigans, Jaebum approached them to check the mystery out personally.

“How many mistakes did it take Jackson to film?”

Both Yugyeom and Jo snickered at the other’s comment. “Not that many, we finished up pretty fast.”

“10 out of 10,” Yugyeom appreciated. “Did you edit the video yourself? With the joint company logos at the end and the message?”

Jo nodded. “All me. We talked about how we would break our collaboration to the world, and then you guys reached out for today’s event, and we figured this would be the best way.”

“10 out of 10.” Jaebum made an okay sign with his fingers to mirror the younger’s appreciation. “You truly are something else, Jo. Your dance style is effortless but sharp at the same time,” he paused for a moment. “It’s similar to Yugyeom’s, isn’t it?”

“Jackson said the same to me, actually.”

“Oh!” Yugyeom turned to Jo. “Do you have any choreography that you like?”

She tapped her index against her chin. “You know, there actually is one. It’s Lisa’s dance on City Girls. I learnt that simply because it was so cool.”

Jaebum burst out in cackles, repeatedly slapping Yugyeom’s shoulder blade. The latter looked up at his leader, trying to fight off the embarrassment. Jo immediately caught on to the moment.

“If you want to try that out together, you just have to say it.”

Yugyeom’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Do you want to?”

Jo winked at him. It reminded her of Catalina’s behavior when she wanted to ask for something but did not dare do it. “Let me calibrate the camera settings for the light in the house and we can try it out. I’m not going to promise I’ll be the best at it.”

Yugyeom jumped up to play the dance session on his mobile and refresh his memory about the step-by-step moves. Jaebum seated himself on the couch, watching Jo as her fingers sped through the shutter speed, ISO and aperture settings.

“I don’t think I ever got the chance to properly thank you for jumping in to help us. It means a lot to Yugyeom, as it does for all of us.”

Jo shook her head at Jaebum’s words. She smiled, keeping an eye on Yugyeom rehearsing at the other end of the room. She was taking test shots of the absorbed youngster when she spoke.

“You know, when I came here, I never expected to do dance sessions or marketing campaigns with you guys. I’ll be frank, I’ve been following you more or less since your debut. Over the years, I grew to understand the passion that each of you puts into your craft. So, when Sam told me the other night about how excited Mark was about Yugyeom’s new dance studio, I figured the least I could do to support his dream.”

Jo monitored the pictures. She adjusted the aperture.

“I’ll give Kyle a call. I don’t know him that well personally, but one thing I do know is that he won’t refuse a talented dancer when he knows one. I want to help people around me shoot for the stars. This is how I built my dream, and this is how I want to help others achieve theirs. It’s Yugueom’s call what he wants to do with the dance video, but if he wants my help, I’ll gladly give it.”

The last picture Jo captured was a sharp display of Yugyeom mid-motions, face focused and body grooving. She was satisfied with the result, and Jaebum was too, watching it on the laptop screen. Although, in hindsight, he might have been satisfied with the indisputable fact that Jackson was in good hands.

“Besides,” Jo breathed lastly, giving Jaebum the camera to prepare for the impromptu dancing session. “He reminds me of my little sister, Catalina. So, you can say I have a soft spot for younger brothers.”

“The boys mentioned her on a couple of occasions, introduce us to her sometime!” Jaebum followed her to where Yugyeom was warming up. “You’re family now, and by extension, so is she. Ah, wait, the catering service is here.”

Jaebum offered to pick up Jo’s order as she reunited with a very enthusiastic Yugyeom. She verified that her T-shirt was tucked in her sports bra band, leaving a generous view of her toned abdomen to the eye. When she had left the house that same morning, Jo hadn’t imagined she would film another video of herself. She cracked her wrist tendons to confirm her body was still warmed up. “Hope you don’t mind I’m going to show up in the video in Team Wang attire.”

“What are you talking about?” Yugyeom chuckled and took off his leather jacket. “Jackson hyung will love it.”

The calibration of their individual movements was unsurprisingly short; Yugyeom was quick to adapt to the structure of the choreography and Jo was equally responsive to his transitions. Following a soundless drill, which Jaebum watched with much interest, the two were ready for a thorough tryout. Jo managed the music.

“Ah, I wish I had a cap. I don’t like doing R&B where my face shines like a lightbulb.”

Jaebum quietly provided his while getting accustomed to the camera settings. With all desired conditions in place, Jo turned up the music and high-fived Yugyeom for a great start to their choreography. Everything had started falling into place: the visions, the hard work, the people in her life. Jo had forgotten how having fun felt and why having fun was an essential part of her existence. The alert rhythm of the Big Apple apprehended her in an endless mirage of always running; to something, for something, after something. And there were those moments, those little moments of freely dancing and singing again, that reminded her of a life she had always wished to build for herself.

It only took meeting Got7 to remind herself of the pleasures of life. And it only took meeting Jackson to remind herself of the life she had yet to build.

“Ahhh!” Yugyeom screeched in frustration as the choreography ended. “I think I made a mistake.”

Jaebum breathed out a snicker of his own, “Me too, I think I moved too much while filming. I got too excited.”

“Don’t even tell me, I think I sang too much throughout. Let’s watch it on the computer!”

Jo grabbed her laptop, and the two men swiftly got behind her to monitor the result. Yugyeom’s mistake went unnoticed, and so did Jo’s attempt at lip-synching the song when they reviewed Jaebum’s not-so-subtle grooving while filming.

Yugyeom scoffed. “Hyung, what even is this? Is this an earthquake?”

Jaebum protested. “Ah, come on, it’s not that visible.”

“Come on, oppa, you were practically dancing along!”

As the three lifted their eyes from the laptop screen and noticed the Got5 quintet staring dumbfoundedly back at them from the entrance. A hearty torrent of laughter filled the space. Jo would have laughed too had it not been for the colossal bouquet of pink spray roses, adorned with white baby’s breath that Jackson was holding. The blush-colored paper wrapping was held in place by a pastel green ribbon.

“Did you hear that?” Jinyoung pointed at his leader, a mocking grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t we all have the right to be called oppa then?”

Bambam shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “I’m not getting that anyway, so why should I care?”

“Am I then?” Youngjae pointed to himself, somewhat mistrusting the fact that he was one of the older people in the room.

“You earn oppa if you’re handsome.” Jaebum declared and gestured for the group to approach. He was amused by the shocked expression painted on Jo’s face, a polar opposite from her dancing attitude. “We thought we would thank you for helping us with organizing everything for today, and we really appreciate that you’re here, Jo.”

“Actually, Jackson needed an excuse to buy you flowers and we just hopped in.”

Jackson’s eyes were glued to Jo’s daring silhouette, in Team Wang clothes, his clothes, revealing abs provoking the imagination. He laughed in disbelief, but whether to Mark’s allegation or to Jo’s apparel he could not say. “Mark!”  

“Okay, maybe that’s half the truth.” Jinyoung settled and motioned for the guys to step aside so that Jo could approach.

“Thank you, guys, all of you!” Jo bowed in front of the men, conveying her gratitude for their gesture, no matter the hidden author. “I have bought coffee, sweets, and pastries for everyone, so dive in! Everything should be warm.”

“We’re in full war now, J.” Bambam announced, glaring at his leader for his obvious double-edged participation. As all the others made themselves busy with the snacks, Jo walked over to Jackson and the grandiose bouquet he was holding. His eyes softened upon seeing her face up close, and he moved the flowers to a single-arm grip so that he could use the other to hug her. Jackson’s fingers left an enchanting touch against her skin, and she circled her arms around his neck.

“Am I oppa?” he laughed, nesting his face in the crook of her neck.

“Why be oppa when you’re papacito?” she replied with a smirk dancing on the plush of her lips.

“Fuck,” Jackson laughed again, albeit masking a lustful growl in his throat. “You looking like this and calling me that makes it very hard for me.”

Jo peeled herself from the embrace, eyes fixated upon Jackson’s. There was a vulgar sparkle lurking in his orbs which made her graze her teeth on the lower lip. “Maybe you’ll let me know what I can do to make it easier for you.”

Gagging sounds emerged from the larger living room, and the couple laughed. “J, are we wrapping up this dance, or no?”

Jackson tightened his grasp around her frame, fingertips leaving scorching trails on her exposed back. He placed a peck on her lips before letting her go. Jackson’s assertive behavior startled Jo; to kiss her in front of all his brothers was a definitive testament for them.

“I’ll find something to put these flowers and I’ll be back for take two, Yugyeom!”

Jackson happily handed Jo the bouquet, pleased with the intended effects of his actions. Jinyoung handed him an iced americano, and, if Jackson did not know any better, he’d say the other was quite satisfied. “That was cool.”

“You’re telling me?” Jackson chuckled and sipped from his coffee as if trying to put out an inner fire. “She’s just so perfect, I don’t know what to do with myself. Any more of that and I’ll have to walk around with a blanket around my hips.”

Jinyoung gave the other a pat on the back, accompanied by earnest laughter. “I hope that is not going to happen.”

City Girls started playing in the background, indicating that the group would resume their previous activities. While everyone gathered around to watch the impromptu performance, Jinyoung and Jackson remained in their spots, observing from a distance.

“Look at her,” Jackson gestured defeatedly with his hand. “Successful businesswoman, smart, beautiful, funny, dancer and singer, she is way out of my league.”

Jinyoung’s eyes inspected Jackson’s features, who was evidently in a trance from admiring his sweetheart. Jinyoung smiled to himself. “You’re in that league, too. You should just tell that you love her.”

Jo caught Jackson staring at her and offered a wink in return, synchronizing it with a body roll. The latter virtually whacked his cheek. “I should, shouldn’t I?” Then, laughing, “She has me wrapped around her little finger, and she has no idea about it.”

As the group gathered around to chaotically celebrate yet another successful but spontaneous activity, Jo had to clap her hands a couple of times to regain their attention and composure. “We’ve got 1 hour to the live, so quickly-quickly prepare yourselves for the photoshoot we need to do for the postcards. Who wants to go first?”

Jinyoung approached the youngsters, grabbing each by their shoulders to steady their energy as much as possible. Bambam and Yugyeom both turned to him. “You heard the lady, didn’t you? Since Yugyeom is already warmed up, you should go first. Bam right after.”

Jo happily fetched the camera. “You’re pretty good at this, huh?”

“These many years down the line, I’d say I learnt a thing or two about all of them.”

“Not sure I agree completely,” she chuckled. “You have this authoritative aura about yourself. The kind that makes people want to follow you.”

Jinyoung crossed his arms over his chest, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “Ditto. You’re doing a pretty good job yourself.”

Jo laughed. “My sister would say I’m arrogant.”

“It would certainly be interesting to hear her perspective.”

Jo jokingly rolled her eyes at Jinyoung, then wrapped the camera strap around her wrist to prepare for the first set of photographs. Yugyeom’s series was effortless to complete, and, apart from some constructive posing feedback here and there, Jo captured his shots in record time. As she was chatting with Bambam about preferences and good angles, her phone started buzzing in the pocket of her trousers. With her vision still focused on the viewfinder, Jo absentmindedly picked up and put the phone to her ear.

“Hello, Jo Montgomery speaking.”

“Why the fuck am I seeing the inside of your ear?”

Dazed to hear the all-familiar voice speaking Spanish on the other end, the picture turned out blurry, which luckily fit Bambam’s aesthetic. A happy accident, one could say.

“Qué pasa, hermanita?” replied Jo, attaching the camera around her neck. She brought the phone to her face. “You have paint all over your forehead.”

“I discovered that you can wipe it off efficiently with vodka, so don’t worry too much. What are you doing? You busy?”

Jo lifted her eyes from the screen; all of Got7 had gathered around to unintentionally listen to the conversation. She lifted an eyebrow and switched to English. “Kind of am, actually. I am doing a photoshoot with seven dorks who seem to be dying to meet you.”

Catalina picked up the subtlety and adapted her language. “Oh, really? Don’t know what kind of marketing you did about me, but let’s do it!”

“I’m sure I’ll regret this.”

Jo sighed before turning the phone to the boys. There was a collective gasp upon meeting the unknown figure; a thin paintbrush resting in the comfort behind her ear, an olive-green paint line crossing her forehead, and a single curly auburn lock of hair dangling from her messy bun. The woman lifted her free hand to wave to the screen, yellow and orange paint coloring her fingertips.

The occasions when Jinyoung was starstruck were generally very difficult to pinpoint. But when she offered her radiant smile to the whole group, Jackson noticed that he missed the queue to greet her in response.

“Ah, I know you guys. Jo used to be obsessed with y’all. I am Catalina!”

“Wow, Jo,” Bambam clicked his tongue. “You don’t look alike at all!”

“Oh, we do.” Catalina replied with a chuckle. “You’re just not used to seeing my face.”

Jinyoung could see where Bambam was coming from; Jo’s features were sharper, bolder, exuding a posh femininity, and her chocolate wavy hair was a dramatic contrast to the fiery ruby color of Catalina’s hair. The younger sister wore softer, delightful characteristics, oozing natural and untamed femininity.  What a paradox.

“We’d better get used to seeing it, then!” Jackson chimed from the back, throwing his arm around Jinyoung’s shoulders. “I’m so happy to meet you, Catalina.”

“Likewise, Jackson! Congrats for the dance combo, by the way. Did y’all kiss yet or am I behind on news?”

Jinyoung cleared his throat. “The most recent one was this morning. Beyond that, we cannot say.”

“Right, good to meet everyone. Thank you, boys.”

Jackson matched Jo’s eyes. He was clearly amused by the situation. She removed the phone from the group and walked away to the kitchen, defying the growing protests. Jo sat herself against the counter.

“Why ruin all the fun? I think we were grooving out there!”  

“Yeah, not today. I’ll give you Jinyoung’s number or whatever if you want to continue that conversation.”

Catalina scoffed. The younger sister placed her phone against an empty chevalet. “Not my fault you’re not calling me these days to keep me in the loop with what you’re doing.”

Jo looked away for a moment. “Life was hectic after I left New York. I barely get the time to eat these days. It’s not like you reached out, either. I could say the same of you.”

Catalina sighed on the other end of the line. “I was just teasing. I’m sorry.”

“Anyway, how can I help you?”

“I actually had two things I wanted to talk to you about, but we can talk about the other one tomorrow. I reviewed the financial statement and made some changes. There were a couple of mistakes which I haven’t seen before, so I put the correct calculations next to the old ones for comparison.”

Jo exhaled, massaging with a finger at her temple. “Thank you. My head’s all over the place and it’s good to have hawk eyes to supervise.”

Jackson knocked silently on the kitchen doorframe. Jo peeled herself off the counter.

“I have to go, chiquita. I’ll drop a message tomorrow to talk about what you wanted to talk, okay? I’ll make time.”

Catalina smiled and brushed the back of her hand over her forehead. “Don’t worry about me. Maybe give me that number, would you? Go be awesome and kick ass!”

Jo put the phone back in her pocket and met Jackson outside the room.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry if the boys went too far with the teasing.”

She waved a hand. “Not at all. Don’t worry, I am glad they are kicking it off that well. And I’m happy they are that easygoing with both of us. I fucked my financial statements for this month, so I need to get my act together.”

Jackson gently took her hands into his. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

Jo smiled at him, giving his hands a soft squeeze in return. “That’s a story for another day. Let’s get back to the boys, do what we have to do, then have a lot of fun tonight.”

Jackson did not look particularly satisfied with Jo’s reply, but her stern poise had him surrender any protests. The night he met her out on her porch before flying out replayed in his mind; to wonder again how her body would feel without all the pressure she was cultivating on the inside. He left a lingering peck on her lips. “Your wish is my command.”

Jo was thankful to the boys for being amenable to the rest of the photoshoot; maybe thanks to Jackson giving them not-so-subtle looks, or to their leader for keeping them focused, they refrained from spilling their lawless energy prior to their live session. The woman picked up what was left of the morning pastries and prepared her gear for the live-editing process. Because of the constant engagement with all elements around her, and because of the undying dedication to complete all tasks to perfection, Jo never noticed her coffee had run cold, nor Jackson’s stolen glances. The untrained eye would not be able to tell that he was distracted, and the members kept him on track.

In between picture editing and scribbling for the financial statements on the iPad she also used for monitoring the live video quality, Jo missed the loud laughs and the silly games the boys were preoccupied with. She figured she would catch up with their shenanigans once she’d do the cuts for their social media videos; it did not make Jackson any less sad that she did not enjoy their free spirits and relaxed atmosphere. He picked up his phone when Bambam and Youngjae were having the match of their lives in truth-or-dare rock-paper-scissors.

Jo’s smartwatch vibrated with a text message.

[Jackson🐻‍❄️] you okay darling?

“Darling”. She smiled.

[Joanne✨] I’m fine handsome

[Joanne✨] just working

The woman lifted her eyes to watch him from behind the camera. He pouted; how fitting, putting the polar bear emoji to his name.

[Jackson🐻‍❄️] I wish you had fun with us here

[Joanne✨] I promise I am

[Joanne✨] doing the things I love with people I care for is fun to me

Jackson’s head bounced up. She offered a thumbs up, and watched his shoulders ease. 

[Joanne✨] now be focused there

[Joanne✨] some comments are sneaking in that you’re distracted

He covered his mouth with his cupped fist, hiding his smirk behind the knuckles. Thinking closely about the topic, the freshly posted reel about the collaboration between her company and Team Wang had a bigger like-comment ratio than the previous ones. It was a natural outcome; still, it prompted Jo to check the cause herself. So, she navigated to the Instagram page and clicked her tongue at the reason behind the unusual popularity.

[bambam1a] watch out 🐍🐍🐍

[yugyeom] 🧯🧯🧯🔥🔥🔥

[marktuan] python full version when

[jinyoung_0922jy] another flies out from the nest

[jaybnow.hr] …they grow up so fast…

[333cyj333] waiting for the full cover

There was one more comment which provoked Jo to sharply divert her attention to Jackson. All of a sudden, he refused to look back at her.

[jacksonwang852g7] that’s my lady.

Not long after having finished the live session, party guests started arriving at the location. Celebrating three out of the seven members entailed a considerable number of people, idols, and friends alike. Jo was admittedly surprised to see so many celebrities, including all of the 97-liners, and it served as a confirmation that their group was cherished and supported by so many others. The house became crowded fast, and she lost Jackson earlier in the crowd. Jo enjoyed the pleasure of always having a Got7 member nearby to introduce her to as many new faces as possible. As she was chatting with them, she was constantly reminded of the fact that none of those public people was a faithful copy of their stage personas. As she was talking and the words were coming out of her mouth, she wondered how her own public persona was perceived.

It came as no surprise that Jo was an attractive woman; from the way she carried herself, to the alluring tone of her voice, she inadvertently piqued the interest of many in the room. She felt it, and Jackson felt it, too. The place he stood in the house did not matter; his eyes were always following Jo through the large group. It was not possessiveness he was aiming for, far from it, not even jealousy. Jackson felt exalted that all others would thirst for Joanne. Soon, he hoped, for his Joanne alone.

And the Got7 men were always one step ahead of the plan. Whenever someone would seek to know more about Jo, they would be careful to refer to her as Jackson’s lady.

“It’s getting tiring at this point,” Jinyoung commented, leaning against the metal bar on the upper floor.  On his left, Jackson was indulging in his whiskey, “I think I’ve heard all about what a lucky man you are, five times in a row.”

“Tell me about it,” Mark sipped from his beer and mirrored Jinyoung’s actions to fix himself to Jackson’s opposite side. “The 97 liners were the first victims of this mass murdering.”

Jackson laughed but kept silent. Jinyoung cocked an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t think you’re enjoying the show.”

“Not at all,” replied Jackson, twirling the drink in his glass. “I’m just trying to get used to the fact that the woman I love will always command the room. Incredibly gratifying but incredibly tough at the same time.”

Mark nudged the other with his elbow. “You know, you’re pretty much the same. You make a good pair.”

The two clinked their glasses. “By the way,” continued Mark, “Catalina is nothing like I expected her to be. Thinking about my own siblings, I guess we couldn’t be more different from one another.”

Jinyoung clasped his hands. Catalina’s vivid image was lucid in his mind, still.

“You’re making me nervous now!” chuckled Jackson. “Good first impressions and that shit.”

“Don’t play coy now, Jacks. She already broke pleasantries with you. No, Jinyoung?”

“Probably.” Nodded Jinyoung. He was distracted.

“Oh my God,” Mark exclaimed, turning to Jackson. “Cupid flying high around these parts?”

Jackson covered his mouth to cloak his shock. “No fucking way.”

“What are you talking about?” Jinyoung laughed, eyes preoccupied with an image of Jo, Bambam and Yugyeom taking another round of shots. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

His robotic responses only made Mark and Jackson giddy. “You know, for an actor, you’re not convincing at all.”

Jinyoung tapped his hand against the metal bar and turned his body to walk away from the most obvious trap in the world. “I’m not trying to convince you. There���s just no logic in what you’re saying. I’ll go grab a drink, see you downstairs.”

Downstairs, the party was just getting started. It was the perfect moment for the DJ to turn the music up and enjoy the musical warmup with nightfall rapidly approaching. Samantha, Jonathan and Leena were the last ones to arrive, and, with the guest list almost sealed up, Bambam took it upon himself to kick off the celebrations. Wearing a pair of clown-like glasses, he helped himself with the microphone in the DJ’s booth. Enthusiastic cheers welcomed him.

“On behalf of Got7, thank you guys for being here to celebrate our autumn babies, Youngjae-hyung, Jinyoung-hyung and Yugyeom. The only thing I want to say is this: let the drinks pour and the dance start. If you want food, we have food in the kitchen. Enjoy, everyone!”

Samantha joined the ovation, then tilted her head toward Jo. “I hope he’ll be the MC to my wedding. Doing a pretty good job.”

Jo laughed in approval. “Definitely. Not like you had a chance to choose anyone else.”

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“I don’t know what your plan is, but I’ll probably get moderately drunk, so I’ll need you to twerk on me and keep me fairly honest here.”

Samantha gave Jo’s butt a swift squeeze, then gestured to the bar. “Just like the old days then!”

Said and done. The girls made haste to the bar to indulge themselves in two shots of tequila and to fuel up for the provoking music the DJ had started to play. Those little moments were hidden treasures in the tumult of mundane life. The passing time was the greatest tragedy, and in the momentary euphoria, Jo was recalling that the scant joys were the true essence of living.   

What’s the plan? I mean, what comes next for Joanne Montgomery?

A simple life, perhaps. Coming home after work, sitting on the balcony in the evening, sipping tea, watching the seasons change coats. Living life in a foreign country for the first time in a long time brought things into perspective. A perspective of yearning for someone to share the good and the bad. To write the next chapter together.

“As much as I enjoy watching you two together, would you mind if I stole Jo from you?”

Jackson’s voice resounded through the rhythm of the house, just as the two women were prepared to execute their dirty-dancing plans. Samantha acknowledged him and retreated gracefully, motivating Jo to continue the arrangement with him. She did not hesitate to encompass her arms around Jackson’s neck, in such closeness that they could breathe the vapors of alcohol from each other’s breaths.

“I missed you all night.” smiled Jo, swinging her hips to the melody. Jackson narrowed the distance between their lower bodies. Some wandering eyes found their way to them.

“I didn’t want you to feel like I’m standing in the way of your freedom,” he replied, his hand finding a steady grip on the skin of her exposed lower back. Jackson was feasting on the watching looks.

Jo noticed his bold moves and a smirk spread on her features. They were at a tangible point of no return, so she slid her nose against his cheek to whisper in his ear. “That’s not very accurate, now, is it? I am your lady now, after all.”

Jackson drew back to look at her and was met with her index against his lips. “Let’s not talk about it now. Just the two of us, when I’ll be able to enjoy you, and you’ll have me all to yourself.”

The one hand in the crook of her back brought the woman closer, the other finding its way to her hair to tenderly pull it away from her visage. The raw intensity of Jackson’s eyes poured sizzling heat into her ribcage.

“I don’t want to hide, Joanne. I just can’t anymore. I want to kiss you, and I want all these people to watch, so I can die tomorrow with no regrets.”

Jo edged her fingers under his chin to absorb every trace of his characteristics in her mind, until they rested against his neck. To start writing the next chapter together with Jackson. “I won’t let you die, Jackson. We have so much yet to live together. I’m yours, now.”

How blessed did one have to be to be desired by a woman men went to war for?

“Promise me you won’t break my heart.”

“I swear it.”

Jackson clashed his mouth against hers in an urgent demand. Joanne let him in, inviting his presence to join with her soul. Got6 were watching the spectacle from the first floor, screaming, shouting and cheering for their newfound love pair. Jackson embraced Jo to shelter her from the attention, sufficient to serve their privacy, and just enough to make all men understand that his lady was decisively off limits.

Later in the night, as the stars rose to the vast of the celestial sphere, and the party was all but a fragment left, Jackson and Jo found themselves in the comfort of Jo’s home. When the woman got out of the shower, she found Jackson sitting on the edge of her tall bed, gaze fixated upon an unknown point beyond the reach of the window. Jo abandoned the towel from her head on a nearby chair and walked over to Jackson, taking him by surprise to climb into his lap. Her knees rested on either side of his body, arms tangled around his neck. His bare torso was warm to the touch. The faint trace of his Armani cologne was intoxicating.

Jackson smiled softly and followed her lead to envelop her middle.

“Hey, handsome,” Jo whispered, “What were you thinking about?”

She was wearing the same two-piece satin set she wore during the night they parted in yearning for the first time. The fabric was as thin as he remembered, but she was more enchanting, more magnificent. On second thought, she grew to be more than that day by day, little by little.

“Nothing in particular,” replied Jackson. “I feel calm with you. I cannot think of the last time I felt so calm with someone else.”

“Me too. You bring me so much peace.”

Jackson brought a head to her temple to caress her hair with the back of his fingers.

“Why me, Joanne?”

Jo sighed airily. “You can imagine it was not intentional. When I first met you at your concert in Seoul, Sam and I were joking that I’ll fuck around and kiss you for the fun of it.”

The two laughed quietly. Jo tangled her hands through Jackson’s strands in a tender touch. He exhaled in comfort. Then, she continued.

“Even the first time I invited you to come inside, I admit I thought we’d enjoy some casual sex, and you’d move on with your life, and so would I.”

“But?”

Jo laughed again. “But you refused me. And the difference between now and then is that now I have this longing that’s killing me. To be here,” she pushed her index into his chest, where the heart was. “It’s killing me to think that another could occupy this space, that another could be cherished in the space that should be mine.”

The woman took a shaky breath. Jackson held her tighter.

“I don’t know if I’m the most selfish person in the world. And if I am, that’s okay. Because I love you and nothing else matters to me.”

Jackson’s head dropped, holding his forehead to her collarbone. His chest deflated at once. “Thank God.”

Jo escorted her hands to his face to guide him back to her. She was met with a grin and with trembling eyes. “What?”

“I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, Joanne. It only took you to sing in my office for me to be aware of it. God, I was so nervous you wouldn’t want me.”

Jo shook her head faintly. “Why wouldn’t I want you? Mi amor, you’re all I ever wanted. I’m terrified of the torment of never seeing you again.”

Jackson lost no time in attaching his lips to hers. His kiss was soft and measured, taking his sweet time to worship every inch of her mouth. Jo accommodated her posture to straddle Jackson’s lap, pressing into his pelvis. The hand hugging her back lingered at the hem of her silky negligee, the other resting at the back of Jo’s neck. Jackson felt a whorl of ecstasy traversing his body, funneled by Jo’s thighs imprisoning his hips.

He gently broke the kiss, much to Jo’s dismay. Jackson’s breath fanned against her lips. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“You’re insulting me with this question. Unless you don’t want to.”

Jackson’s fingers grabbed at the bothersome material veiling Jo’s upper body, tearing fissures into it. The final sliver of moral sense was hanging on by a thread against the carnal appetite she had awoken in him. “God, Jo, I’m so hungry for you, but I don’t have any condoms.”

“We don’t need that, Jackson.”

He furrowed his brows and looked up at her. “What do you mean we don’t need that?”

Jo allowed her hands to fall to the waistband of his trousers, clutching a handful of the cloth. She chuckled at his vexed expression. “It’s not what you think. I have an IUD.”

The spiral of reactions happening all at once on Jackson’s physiognomy forced Jo to take the matters into her own hands. “You can come inside me, Jackson.”

The instant twitching of his crotch produced a guttural grumble in the back of Jo’s throat. She felt it at twice the intensity, with his pants serving as the only real obstacle between their bodies.

Jackson’s voice darkened into a growl; an appetizing lust subjugated his irises. “Fuck... Do you want to drive me crazy, princess?”

Jo separated her body from his, working on unbuttoning her velvety lingerie. She wanted to press further into the switch she had just activated, so she threw her head and arched her back to ride his clothed bulge. “I’ve never done it raw with any man before. I merely want to tell you the truth.”

“Fuck that, Jo.”

Jo’s sultry words were the last piece of the puzzle. Jackson was left devoid of any patience to wait for the woman to undo her shirt, so he grabbed at the edges of her lingerie to rip it apart. Jackson seized the back of her thighs to lift her up in his arms and flip her onto her back in the plush of the bed. The bubblegum material split helplessly to the sides of Jo’s abdomen, revealing the grandeur of her naked silhouette. Jackson’s eyes dined on the sight of her full breasts, of her damp waves sketched all over the sheets, and of the rosy cheeks boiling with expectation.

Jackson licked his lips; what a marvel his woman was.

In all her 28 years of life, she had never been admired the way Jackson admired her. Lusted over? Countlessly. Desired? More times than she could keep count. But to be adored in ways one had never been adored? To be adored for reasons that had never been told before? As if the last peony of spring were to bloom tomorrow?

“No one has ever looked at me like that.” murmured Jo, cupping both her breasts to make them bounce.

“You’re perfect, love. I’ll make sure it’s the first thought you wake up to and the last you have before going to bed.”

Jackson towered over her body, assaulting the valley of her chest with famished kisses. He settled upon her left breast to nibble a spot close to her nipple, and to massage her other breast in circular motions. Free digits captured her clothed and prematurely soaked womanhood. The grinding of his teeth into the skin sent an electrifying sensitiveness through her spine, and the curve in her back was enough for Jackson to grind his fingers over her clit. Delicious mewls echoed in the bedroom.

“Can’t wait to taste this between your legs, beautiful.”

Jo gripped a fistful of his hair to caress his scalp and lead him to the trail of her abdomen. Upon closer inspection, a raspberry spot thrived on top of her breast. Jackson watched her as she ghosted her fingertips over it.

“Does it hurt?”

The woman elevated her left foot over Jackson’s collarbone, which he invited with a kiss to the ankle. Jo moaned. “I love it. You’re doing all the right things, yet you call yourself rusty?”

Jackson chuckled, his butterfly kisses reverberating against her abdomen. He speedily removed her panties, knelt to the ground, and guided both her legs over his shoulders. The gust of cold over her helpless vagina turned her skin to goosebumps. Jackson laughed again before speaking; his breathing against her labia incited the bliss in her veins.

“I probably have all but 10 minutes to pleasure you, so I have to make sure I don’t let you down.”

 “You couldn’t even if you tried.”

Jo’s initial giggles evolved in filthy whines, with Jackson’s tongue working tirelessly on her clit. Sloppy movements of his lips added to the shameless delight flooding through her vessels, and Jackson alternated between sucking and kissing to encourage her to moan. His eyes pierced hers as he looked up at her.

“I hope you’re not holding yourself back.”

Jo raked her fingers through golden locks, offering a smirk. “How loud I am depends on you, papacito.”

Jackson hummed and accelerated his motions with two fingers in the heat of her vagina. Jo abruptly arched her back, griding against his face. “Yes baby, just like that, rub yourself against me.”

He picked up the pace, thrusting his digits back and forth in ample movements to keep up with Jo’s writhing frame. The staccato shakes and roaring cries were a sharp indicator that Jo was close to reaching her orgasm, so Jackson pinned her lower abdomen to pin her down and apply fervent pressure. His orbs were obsessed with the jolts in her skin and with the savory looks on her visage. Jackson understood the decisive signal when the woman pulled on his hair.

“Come on baby, I’ll eat all of you.”

One last impulsive squirm was all it took for Jo to unfold herself to Jackson, and the latter sustained her body as she rode out her toe-curling orgasm. All muscles in her legs were strained and weak. Jackson helped her settle down, lying her silhouette down on the mattress. She must have dug her calves into his neck, which he never complained about.

“Good girl,” Jackson pressed a peck into Jo’s inner thigh. He sat up to worship his work and wipe his chin to the inner corners of his mouth. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Jo snatched his wrist to lure him atop her. “Look who’s talking, wiping the last of my cum to your tongue.”

Jackson kicked his pants to the floor and grabbed a pillow before accepting her invitation. “You’re what Heaven tastes like baby, why would I give it away? Hop on.”

The woman obediently perched upon the cushion, starved with anticipation. Jackson complied with the tacit request of her eyes to take in the sight of his throbbing cock. Jo bit into her lower lip.

“Like what you see, princess?”

Jo opened her legs in response, just as milky drips oozed from her vagina. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Jackson plunged into bed to trap her body under his own. He glided his hand past her thigh to wrap it around his pelvis, using the other hand to lunge himself whole into her cavern. Jackson collapsed his lips against hers to blend her lewd moan with his desperate groan. His eyelashes fluttered open to watch Joanne’s decadent characteristics; penetrating her raw pussy all at once left him weak.

“Fuck Joanne,” he whispered under his breath to give her time to take him in. “I love you.”

Her cherry-colored nails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades to prompt him to move. “I love you too, Jackson.”

Jackson steadied himself to align with her inferior abdomen and to angle his thrusts. Jo’s urgency to have him inside of her and the clenched nails leaving scratches in his back had him pick up the rhythm. Every thrust poked at her sweet spot to convert her into a moaning preacher. Jo’s lower body was drowning with ripe pleasure at Jackson’s cock sliding unforgivingly in her soaked vagina.

And Jo did not have to verbalize her needs; Jackson’s grip on her thigh constricted to glue her pelvis to his, fucking her harder. He leaned down to steal even the tiniest whines her chest was producing. The lullabies of love vibrated through the room, each pounding movement digging deeper into her drenched womanhood.

“Baby, I’m not holding out much longer here.”

Jo smiled coarsely at him, cupping his face with her palms. “You’re making me unable to stand on my feet. So, cum baby, I want us to come together.”

Jackson embraced Joanne and connected his chest to hers. His hips contracted with rough motions to continue hitting her cervix, and Jo’s voice ascended an octave. She encircled her arms around his neck to keep him close and felt a piercing sensation in her belly. Jo clung to Jackson, spine arching into him to ride nirvana as it came. The man held her tightly as her burrowed his head into the nest of her neck and gasped a consuming moan as he filled her vagina with his seed. The warmth of his creams was bizarre to Jo, but she knew it would soon become an addictive habit.

Looking at one another, they exploded in jolly laughter. Jackson affixed his forehead to hers.

“I’m nervous to look down.”

Jo giggled, running her thumb over his jawline. “Why? It’s your canvas.”

When he permanently pulled out, Jo choked at the unpleasant sensation of the emptiness. An erotic sob happened when she felt the sperm overflow to her thighs. Jackson slapped his cheeks at the mesmeric sight. “Fuck me, baby.”

“Give me a break!” she chortled, arms falling in defeat. “I can’t feel my knees.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up then. A warm bath will be good.”

Before the woman found the chance to protest, Jackson scooped her up in his arms. He showered her face with big smooches. The man opened the bathroom door with his foot and helped Jo sit up near the bathtub. Jackson rotated the faucets until he was satisfied with the temperature and aided Jo as she crawled into the tub.

“Amor, can you give me a bath bomb from the drawer, please? I should have one with strawberries.”

Jackson happily obeyed and handed his lady the bath bomb she requested. He then squatted on the bathroom stool and leaned his elbows against the edge of the tub. A long-lasting smile played at the corners of his mouth.

Jo chuckled, “What?”

“You’re the most beautiful being in the world.”

The woman removed the cover off the bath bomb, a fruitless effort to mask her blushing cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Was that really safe? What we did?”

“Sam put it in there, so I took her at her word. I’ve had an IUD for a couple of years now, and I wanted her to be the one to help me change it. I trust her.”

Jackson nodded. Jo watched him hesitate for a second.

“I put it in because one of my friends in Manhattan got pregnant after her boyfriend’s condom broke. And I wasn’t willing to take any chance. Was that what you wanted to ask?”

He snickered. Read him like an open book. “It was. Partly. Why did you choose me to be the first one you had sex with like this?”

Jo fiddled with her fingers. The water level rose to her abdomen, and it sizzled under the effect of the bath bomb. “When a woman has sex with a man and he comes inside her, his genetic material is allegedly imprinted into hers forever. An IUD doesn’t prevent that.” She turned to him. “There was no one in my life worth that much.”

Jackson intertwined his fingers with hers underwater. His eyes betrayed a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say.” Jo squeezed his hand. “I guess we never really talked about the future much. I just don’t see anyone in my future who could replace you. And you’re imprinted in it now, forever.”

Jackson smiled and leaned over to kiss her forehead. He turned off the faucets when the water reached his lover’s breasts. “We talked about the future, did you forget?”

Jo’s brows furrowed. He continued. “You told me that you wanted to have a farm and kids, not how many, but that’s up to you. And then I told you I’d marry you. Then you laughed. And it broke my heart a little.”

Joanne looked at him with a grin. “I did, didn’t I? I’m sorry.”

Jackson shook his head. “It never changed anything for me. I’m still going to marry you.”

“Hey, Jackson?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“When our lives slow down just a little and we’re not chasing for a tomorrow morning, could you take me fencing?”

It was Jackson’s turn to wrinkle his forehead in evident confusion, and even more evident happiness. “Fencing? Why?”

Jo leaned her body against the tub material, taking in the sight of her lover beaming up at her. If time could be frozen in a painting, that image would have been closest to eternity.

“I feel like in the last couple of weeks we only did things which were valuable to me. I want us to do things which are valuable to you.”

Jackson’s orbs softened, tears threatening to take over. Jo gave his hand another squeeze. “I’m not sure I won’t suck at it, though.”

He laughed and rubbed his eyes. “I promise I’ll take you anywhere in the world you want to go.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

The angry sound of the doorbell interrupted their moment.

“Were you waiting for anyone?” Jackson asked, straightening his body.

“No. Maybe Sam and Mark dropped by? I left some things at Sam’s house the other day.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go see. I’ll be back.”

Jackson travelled to the bedroom to retrieve his trousers and raked through his hair to comb it to his best capacity. He decided he’d steal Jo’s kitten slippers and walked to the front door. There was a thin blanket that he grabbed on his way to the entrance hall to serve as a temporary shirt. If he’d checked beforehand who it was, maybe he wouldn’t have opened it.

Max sneered at the unexpected host and toyed with his cigarette. He inspected the other man’s frame; pumped muscles on a half-naked body, and lingering sweat beads, it was not difficult to put two and two together. “Well, it’s not like I should be too surprised to see you here.”

Jackson stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “I am surprised to see you, so maybe you’ll let me know what you’re doing here?”

“Is Jo okay?”

Jackson could have enlightened the other as to Jo’s condition, to the fact that his sperm was dripping out of her, and her lungs deflated with screaming his name just moments before. He refrained from doing so. “She’s fine, taking a bath.”

Max acknowledged his words, taking a deep puff of his nicotine. “Anyway, there’s no difference between talking to you and talking to her. I have the same things to say.”

The Spaniard handed Jackson a dozen of pearly envelopes, sealed with hazel wax.

“My team and I are kicking off the opening night of our musical tomorrow at the Seoul Opera Theater. You have twelve invitations there at the VIP balcony. I’m not here to ask you to market it, but if you guys and your group want to come, it will mean the world to my team.”

Jackson accepted the envelopes. “Are you playing, too?”

“Yeah. I directed it and I also play the leading male role in it.”

“That’s awesome,” Jackson offered. “It’s a huge deal to open at the Opera Theater. Congratulations.”

Max nodded and a shred of a smile formed on his features. “Thanks. It’s almost sold out. I am grateful to have had this opportunity.”

Jackson looked at him. He appreciated his sincerity. “I won’t promise all of us will come, but if we do, we’ll see you there. I’ll text the boys and let them know.”

The Spaniard twisted on his heels to take his leave. He took a couple of steps on the patio and stopped in his tracks, just as Jackson was about to open the door. “Take care of her, will you? I’d hate to know she’s not in good hands.”

Jackson watched the other’s back. Max tilted his head to wait for the answer.

“I love Joanne. More than I can put into words. I’m living for her.”

Max crushed the headbutt of his cigarette with the outsole of his shoes and waved his hand goodbye.

[write-it-good-imagines]

Every Rule Has An Exception – 5

Author's note: hello loves, happy Easter! We are back with the next part of our beloved story idiots falling in love. No further ado, please enjoy and drop a comment to let me know your thoughts!! <3

P.S: This song is the main trope of this chapter: Faouzia, Fur Elise.

Word count: ±12.5k

Tropes: friends idiots to lovers || slow burn romance || almost smut || angst / light angst || long series || jackson wang || soulmates || original characters || dorks in love || 3rd POV

“Jackson?” Jo put the wooden clamps on the cutting board and turned her attention to the other end of the room where Jackson was. “What happened? Who was it?”

Jackson put Jo’s phone back on the table, and the latter observed a more distant look in his eye. He chuckled wryly. “I told you it was rude to go through another person’s messages. This Max person says you two are viral in Korea.”

Another short message sound echoed through the speakers in the living room. Jackson did not have to look at the lit-up screen to know it was that same man messaging once more. He noticed the grimace on Jo’s face.

“I did not lie to you when I said I had nothing to hide, Jackson.” Jo took the clean plates from the dining table to transfer the beef from the pan. “Max is my ex-lover. He is the last man I was in a relationship with these past couple of years.”

Jo shifted her position to face Jackson who threw the towel from his head to the adjacent couch. His eyes fixed her, and she could not figure out the expression he was displaying. There was one clear thing in his demeanor; the compassion in his irises evaporated.

“Is he still in your life?”

Jo assumed the stance to meet Jackson’s posture. “No.”

“Does he know?”

Jo blinked at the other’s question. She was prepared to answer a hundred million different questions, prepared to be honest with him and with herself alike. Jackson’s inquiry took her by surprise. He presumably had little to no interest in her past with Max; his question focused on her present and sparked the interest to her future.

“He should.”

Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. “That’s not a yes, Jo.”

As Jackson sat down on the couch, Jo felt a macabre sensation knitting in her stomach. She instinctively covered her abdomen, grasping at the suit material. ���I left him, Jackson.”

Jackson’s eyes never left her silhouette. That barren visage he was carrying twisted her stomach further.  “Why? I don’t know much Spanish, but I can understand mami is an endearing thing.”

“I left him,” Jo repeated. Much to her surprise, the words came out clean, yet vehement. To convince herself of a fact she had already known. “I packed my bags and walked away. We haven’t talked to each other in years, up to a couple of days ago. I deleted his number, and I don’t have it, still.”

Jackson nodded his head, then leaned against the backrest of the couch. “Aren’t you curious to see what he wrote to you?”

“No,” Jo replied, her tone growing stronger, more confident. “I am curious to know what is going through your head right now.”

He closed his hands to hang them at his nape. “Quite a lot of things actually,” Jackson breathed out and shrugged his shoulders. “Was he bad to you? Did he treat you wrong? Why are you here with me now and not with him?”

A short laugh bubbled out of his lungs. “And I’m dying to see what you two became viral for. Even though I don’t want to see my lady do that with no one else.”

Jo’s lips parted slightly in sudden shock of Jackson’s words. How did he look so serene, while also carrying the air of the most troubled man on Earth? Jo had to latch herself to the refuge of the kitchen counter, not to give in to the newfound weakness in her knees.

“Your lady?” she whispered in disbelief.

“Yes, my lady, Jo,” Jackson exhaled and stood up. “Or at least, I thought you would be my lady.” He made a step toward her. “I can’t clear my head of all these thoughts of you, Jo. You’re so alluring in all these right ways. I just can’t keep away from you when you’re near.”

Jo watched him as he inched closer, step after step after step, with fresh determination painting the brown of his eyes, still devoid of the tenderness he had carried in the early hours of the day. Jo could not pretend to know him well enough to read between his lines, to guess his running feelings. Jackson appeared resentful, protective, jealous? A blend of sentiments that could be anything but possessive. A blend of sentiments that revolved around her and her freedom.

Jackson stopped before her, the intensity of his existence capturing Jo’s very essence. His voice sounded urgent, imposing even.

“Say something, Jo. Say something cause I’m losing my mind.”

Jo could feel his warmth fanning against her lips, yet his eyes never left hers. Jackson rested his hands on either side of her body. Jo felt her heart hammering in her chest, swearing that Jackson could hear it too.

“My name is Joanne.” She breathed out. “Joanne who is consumed with thoughts of you, aggravated with the fact that you’re almost always too far away from my fingertips. I am exasperated that I have never met a man like you and I don’t know what to do with these feelings.”

“Joanne,” Jackson murmured, and his features were slowly coloring in softness once more. “Joanne. What a beautiful name.”

Jo looked at the man standing before her, unable to comprehend his reactions. She perceived that her armor was being torn apart piece by piece with such unknown mastery. All that was characteristic of her was washing away. “Please,” Jo pleaded silently, seizing at her chest with one hand. “I need to say these things out loud to you.”

Jackson grabbed her by the hand keeping guard at her soul. “If you stop hiding away from me, I swear I’ll listen to everything you want to say to me.”

She could not counter his request, not with the steadfastness reflected so vividly in his orbs. Jo did not remember the last time she tried to bare herself naked to something else than her mirror. Jackson had that aura about him, to wrap her in safety and take all her bad habits to lay them to rest. Perhaps not all of them were prepared to go, but some were on the verge of breaking apart.

Jo finally spoke, taking him by the hand with a gentle squeeze, “I won’t hide.”  

“Good!” Jackson declared and tugged her to the dining table. “Let’s eat now.”

Jo blinked at him. Then cried out. “What the hell do you mean eat?!”

“Didn’t you say that the steak is no good to us cold?” Jackson replied calmly, pulling her chair. “And I heard your stomach rumbling, so I can’t have you being hungry. We’re not going anywhere after this.”

The woman accepted Jackson’s invitation and seated herself at the table. He retrieved the bottle of wine from the living room table and rummaged through a side drawer for the corkscrew. Jo was watching his light movements with an irritation in her throat. He put her through a rollercoaster just moments before, having her on the edge of anguish that he would detach himself from her.

Could those have been the same emotions she put Max through?

Jo confirmed to herself that she was a big contender for the greatest hypocrite on Earth.

Jackson returned to the table to fill the tall glasses with Pinot Noir, mocking the motions of a renowned wine connoisseur, and earned a smile from Jo. He sat in his chair and, in a firm action, pulled Jo’s chair closer to his own.

“What are you sitting so far away for?” he chuckled at the shock on the other’s face.

“That was very sexy.” Jo admitted, moving the cutlery to her.

“It was meant to be sexy,” Jackson boasted, notwithstanding a smirk. “Did it work?”

Jo scoffed at him, failing to conceal her smile. “Yes, it did. Now please see to your steak.”

So, Jackson cut a piece of the steak and brought it to his mouth for a prolonged bite. Jo was nervous initially, thinking that she must have overcooked it; Jackson’s lewd groan, whether intentional or not, confirmed otherwise. “I’m sold.”

“To whom?” Jo joked sheepishly, safely tending to her dish. She appreciated Jackson’s intentions of easing the tense ambience. It gave her a sense of security that he was truly willing to give her the attention.

Jackson’s smirk grew wider. His expression was seductive enough that Jo could not take her eyes off him. Jackson switched the topic. “Did you know that the boys are planning to throw a party for all the September birthdays? Youngjae’s was the first, then Jinyoung’s was just a couple of days ago, and Yugyeom is coming up soon.”

“Oh really?” Jo took another bite of her steak. “Sam didn’t say.”

At that point, Jackson had stuffed his cheeks with food. His close resemblance to a chipmunk was an outrageous shift from his previously delicious features. He continued when he finished chewing. Jo was happy to see him enjoying himself.

“I’m sure Mark didn’t want to put her through organizing everything again. Bam mentioned at some point he felt really bad he had to put so much on her, so he must have understood the message.”

“Nonsense. Sam loves doing these things. She always planned all our birthday parties back in college.”

“She has a knack for that. I had so much fun at Mark’s.” Jackson approved and stopped to reach for his glass. He brought it closer to Jo’s. “Cheers?”

Jo’s fingers wrapped around her glass, meeting Jackson halfway. “Cheers.” Then she sipped from the glass, “Me too. It felt like the old times.”

“You know,” Jackson began, “After we talked about your old squad in Stanford, you know, at the party, I kept thinking how it could have been to have met you back then.”

Jo leaned her chin on the back of her hand, focusing her full attention to Jackson. “I don’t know, maybe we wouldn’t have met at all. I probably would have been a freshman, and you, a senior. Besides, fighting through a swarm of girls would have been tough.”

Jackson motioned with his index in the air, making a quick calculation. “You’re 28 then?”

“Bingo.”

“Ah, shit, sorry,” Jackson rapidly covered his mouth, in a mortified expression. “I didn’t mean to ask.”

“Ah, fuck that,” Jo laughed in response and took another sip of wine. “I don’t mind. Well, I don’t mind if it’s you. I promised you I won’t hide anymore, and my age is part of that. It’s worth knowing I’m younger than you, no?”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t care.” Jackson replied decisively. “Doesn’t make any difference to me.”

Jo nodded her head, grabbing the fork and knife again. “So, birthday you were saying?”

“Oh yeah. So, we’re doing that Saturday next week. Jaebum wants to do a live stream with all of us for our fans.”

“That’s nice. Always so thoughtful.”

“Right. We need a video editor.”

Jo blinked with curiosity. She did not remember the Got7 members having any social media content edited from their live streamed versions. “Why? You want to do some TikTok content and all that?”

Jackson seemed a tad hesitant to reply. “Well, maybe some short clips with the happy birthday stuff and some photos with the members.”

“If you need any help with ideas and whatnot, maybe I could help,” Jo offered. “You can ask Jaebum to contact me, and we can brainstorm.”

Jackson put his cutlery on the table surface with a loud sigh. “Fuck it, I’m not good at these things,” He looked straight at Jo. “We were wondering if you’d like to edit and post our stuff.”

Ah. So that was the beating around the bush for. “I mean, I’d hate to refuse you but—"

Jackson’s face all but changed into a horribly sad puppy look. “But you will?”

Jo’s shoulders dropped. Something about him made it terribly difficult to refuse virtually anything that came out of his mouth. Jo was developing a weakness for Jackson she had never developed for anyone before. “Jeez, let me finish. I was about to say that it’s no big deal to do it, editing and all that is pretty easy. If I had a camera. Which I don’t.”

Jackson’s face reverted to its cheerful display. “Both Jayb and Jinyoung have cameras.”

“I know they do,” Jo laughed at the other and bumped her foot against his under the table. “Jaebum held a photography expo in 2020 if I’m not mistaken. Very good stuff.”

“You knew that?!” Jackson’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise.

“Of course I do! Who do you take me for? I should have received the biggest Got7 fan badge or something.”

Jackson put his hands in the air in mocked defense. Jo chuckled.

“Why me though?” she asked, dropping her head in the palms of her hands.

“In case it’s not already obvious,” Jackson folded his arms over his torso, “Your art and creativity are beyond extraordinary. And I might have run my mouth to the boys about it, too.”

Jo cocked an eyebrow, a sliver of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Do go on.”

Jackson mirrored her actions. “Right, so I told Jaebum to talk to you himself. But he said that I should do it cause he didn’t have your number or some shit.”

“Mhm, as if my contact is not listed on my company’s website. Doesn’t answer my question though. Aren’t you guys already working with someone on the photo video side?”

“It’s kind of short notice to be honest,” Jackson scratched at his nape. “We didn’t know we would all be free to meet up. And the live thing idea was given on the spot.” Jackson stopped for a brief second to capture Jo’s eyes. “And I wanted you.”

It was no secret Jo’s orbs softened. Jackson picked it up swiftly and took her by the hand.

“So, you wouldn’t have invited me to celebrate with everyone had it not been for my photography mastercraft?”

Both of them burst out in hearty laughter at Jo’s teasing remark. She entwined her fingers through Jackson’s.

“I thought you being there was by default at this point.”

His touch was tender, like the spring’s gentle sunshine. If time could be frozen in a bottle, Jo would have chosen that very moment to imprint in her tapestry of forever: Jackson’s cherished warmth, his velvety smile and that ethereal serenity his eyes wore whenever he looked at her. When he spoke again, his voice descended a semitone.

“Joanne,” he smiled once more. “I’m not used to calling you this.”

A faint trace of a blush flushed her cheeks. “You’d better be, Jackson.”

Jackson sighed; and Jo’s world came tumbling down, in fear of the worst. She respected his uncertain pause.

“Joanne, I like you. Very much. Extremely much.”

Jo held her breath. “But?”

“You’re not ready for this.”

She lowered her eyes, but Jackson guided his other hand to cup her cheek and lead her back to him. He met her with a reassuring smile that had Jo release all the apprehended air in her lungs. “I didn’t say I’m giving up on us.”

Jo’s bottom lip started trembling.

“I don’t want to share any of you, or your mind, or your heart, or your anything with anyone. Neither of us deserves this.”

“I know. You don’t.” Jo’s voice barely survived a whisper, and she tried to look away. Jackson’s thumb caressed her skin.

“Hey, look at me. You promised you won’t hide from me anymore.”

Jo reluctantly tilted her head to look at Jackson. “I’m afraid. My hyper fixation with being the independent eldest daughter who was pushed to being perfect and doing everything perfectly on her own makes me afraid.”

Jackson’s voice dictated patience. As promised. “Of what?”

“That I’ll pack my bags and walk away from you just as I did to Max. That I’ll leave you without a trace because I can’t open up to anyone because I keep on telling myself I don’t need anyone to build my life for me.”

Jo grabbed Jackson by the wrist, trying to hold herself steady. Her fingers were cold and numb. “Max was never bad to me. He treated me well and always did his best to make me happy. When I started building up my career, I convinced myself that he would only hold me back, and sabotage me, and we couldn’t have anything anyway because he was touring the States to lead his musicals.” Each word coming out of her lips caused fissures in her voice, and, unbeknownst to her, a tear bubbled over Jackson’s thumb.

“I don’t want to do this to you, Jackson. You’re doing all these things right, everything you could do, you are doing. You don’t deserve the cup half full.”

Jackson reached over to place a chaste kiss on her temple and pull her into his chest. He curled his fingers through the hair at the base of her neck, his other arm holding her into his proximity.

“Do you trust me?”

Jo retreated to look at him. Jackson encircled both her cheeks, eyes steadily studying her features.

“What?”

“This is not something we can control, Joanne. If you decide to pack up your things one day and walk away, I can’t do anything about it. It’s the same for me.” There were no traces of insecurities in his tone. “I think I told you that I don’t want to fuck this up with you because I did not try. So, I ask you again, do you trust me?”

“Jackson, but—”

His eyes stopped wondering to fixate upon hers. “Do you trust me?”

Where was all his conviction coming from? How could he be so vehement, why would he be? What did he see in her that he was so adamant to have her, faced with the choice that she could leave regardless?

“I do,” Jo spoke, gasping for air. “I trust you.”

“Then I’ll be man enough to make you feel safe with me.”

She shook her head out of instinct. “I don’t understand. I did all these things in the past, and I am so ashamed of them, yet you don’t bat an eye?”

“Fuck the past, Jo. Fuck it, I don’t care.” Jackson cut her off, lowering his hands to capture hers again. “I want to live in the present with you. All I’m asking is you forgive yourself and come to terms with what’s in your heart. Anything else? We’ll figure out together.”

Another tear followed in the avenue of the earlier one, sprinkling over Jackson’s thumb. There was desperation lingering in his eyes as he watched the droplet break against his skin, forehead wrinkled in evident discomfort.

“And look at me,” mumbled Jackson, “I promised you I’d fight for your smiles and happiness, and I’ve already made you cry.”

Jo chuckled in disbelief, fighting against the whirlpool in her orbits. “Shut up. These are happy tears.”

She enveloped Jackson’s hands in her own, to tug them at her lips and plant butterfly kisses on each of his wrists. The crease in his forehead gradually disappeared and got replaced by raw fragility. “When I read your letter the other night, multiple times as I’ve told you, I scribbled a little something of my own in response.”

“Oh?” breathed Jackson and rested his hands against her thighs. His fingers massaging into the clothed skin felt feathery. ”What about?”

“You’ll see. Actually, I think it makes the most sense to give it to you now, since you already stripped me of all my masks anyway.”

Jackson followed Jo curiously with his eyes as she straightened her body to poke through her handbag and pick up a small leather agenda. Jo opened the diary where her handwriting adorned the pages.

“When you released High Alone earlier this year, I admit I hadn’t followed your individual projects for a while, so I was excited to see what you were up to as an artist. Watching that music video, it broke my heart. Then I watched the behind the scenes and all it did was twist the knife into the wound.”

Jo extended her arm to hand the diary to Jackson.

“It truly hit me then that we collectively have no idea what you are going through. And I said to myself that I hope someday you’ll find that person after your own heart. To walk with you through all this darkness.”

Jackson watched her in awe as she spoke. The agenda was light in his hands, yet Jo’s words carried such weight that he found it nigh impossible to break their contact. The woman regarded his silence as means to finish her confession.

“I’ll be selfish now and say that I want to become that person for you. I’ll speak with Max and make all my intentions clear, sure. But I want to let you know that I want us to try. I want us to be together. Will you wait for me just a little longer?”

Jackson hurriedly put the journal on the adjacent table and dashed over to Jo to crash his lips against hers. The familiarity of his touch against her skin caused the air to hitch in her throat and an explosive sensation to blast at her core. Jo spiraled her arms around his neck and conceded into his presence, unquestionably following Jackson’s lead. His hands travelled to the nest of her lower back, and, in the tumult of the rowdy moment, his fingers inadvertently slid under her Balmain blazer. The woman flinched at the unexpected bare contact, which caused her back to arch further into his embrace.

A vulnerable mewl formed in the back of Jo’s neck and, admittedly against her wishes, she broke the kiss in a struggle for breath. “Jackson, I can’t breathe.”

The carnal appetite lasted but a moment on Jackson’s physiognomy. He broke into a grin and stole another sheepish peck from Jo. “I got carried away.”

“Mhm, you sure did, my cielo.” Jo nuzzled her nose against his, lips taunting over the other’s. She was growing impatient to taste that impure hunger Jackson displayed mere milliseconds before. As opposed to the other times she desired him and his physical pleasures, Jo started yearning for him. For a connection to the infinitesimal pieces of his soul.

“My cielo,” Jackson repeated through a nimble lick of his lips. Jo was no psychic, but she could swear the attraction was ripe and no longer one sided. Especially with Jackson’s body drawing closer inch by inch, to keep the ecstasy palpable at an alarming distance. He was entirely aware of his doings. “I like that.”

“I have more where that came from. But I must go shower.”

Jackson whined at her proposition, reluctant to break their contact. “You should. I mean, you don’t smell bad or whatever—”

“I know. I assume you won’t share the bed with me tonight?”

He kissed her lips again as if delivering an apology. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t think it’s the best moment for us to do it. I’ll tug you to sleep, as promised.”

Jo was receptive of Jackson’s growing cravings amidst their voracious shared moment, but her better judgement was still in agreement with Jackson’s. On the brighter side of the coin, she was satisfied with the evidence that he might have desired her at least to a fraction of how much she yearned for him. She laughed briefly before she replied.

“So, no free Willy man tonight?”

Jackson’s eyes reflected earnest terror. “Oh my God, I really did say that in a podcast.”

“I know! I’m sorry to your Willy.”

“Stop it!” he laughed and pulled her into an embrace as Jo threw her head back in triumphant laughter. “He won’t choke for a night or two.”

Jo grabbed at his shoulders tighter as he spun her around in the living room, the sounds of happiness colliding with the once empty walls. Jackson gently placed her back on the ground, and the dazzling smile colored on his face tugged at Jo’s heartstrings.

“You know, I lied a bit when I said I don’t have anything planned for us. Technically it’s not a lie because I forgot, but the Moon Festival is celebrated this weekend, and I want to show you how beautiful this city is.”

For the first time in an arduous long time, Jo looked at the man standing in front of her and decided to give in to him. To accept his lead, to be guided by someone else. To enjoy the buried requests of her inner child and truly wear her soul bare on her sleeve. To bask in her femininity.

“I would love to.”

The following morning, Jo woke up before dawn. All the lights in the apartment were off and no noise was coming from the living room where Jackson was sleeping. Taking advantage of the fact that she was rather energized after a relaxed night and quiet sleep, Jo decided to unpack her gym clothes and go for an early run. She finished her morning routine quickly and went to check on Jackson. He looked peaceful and in deep slumber, still; Jo retrieved his blanket from the floor and covered him.

What caught her attention was the diary wide open on the nearby coffee table, where she had left it open only a few hours prior. The edges of the paper were uneven, a testament to the faithful fingerprints that took their time to master the words. Jo smiled to herself and headed out.

Strip for me—not your clothes, not your body

but the armor you wear when you think no one is looking.

Jo’s brain was still high on the bliss of the previous day’s events, but capable enough to replay each stage at a slower pace. It felt surreal, regardless; Jackson managed to unpeel layer by layer by layer of her carefully built fortress. She would have thought him mad to put his trust in a woman whom he barely came to know. She would have thought him insane to chase her so stubbornly.

Jo picked up the speed.

Take off the version of you

that makes everyone comfortable but you.

Was he, though? Mad, insane? Or was she the one who indoctrinated herself to believe that hiding from people was the best way to protect oneself from damage? Why did it take one man, him, and no one else, to open her damn eyes to the things she refused to see?

Then it hit Jo that Max was never on equal footing with Jackson. Consequently, the attempt to keep herself trapped in the same old patterns proved to be futile. Jackson saw right through her and her games, whereas Max seemingly played along. And the funny part in Jo’s story was that she never prayed for Jackson to walk in her path. Jo sprinted back to the apartment.

Stand there, bare in your fury, naked in your wanting

Let me worship you for it.

Was she falling in love with Jackson?

Jo attempted to open the front door discreetly, only to be met by an inviting smell of freshly cooked breakfast. Jackson was keeping busy in the kitchen, and she noticed that all the dishes from the night before were cleaned. A Chris Brown R&B tune was humming in the background.

Jackson chimed joyfully as Jo shut de door. “Good morning, queen!”

“Queen?” Jo displayed an amused expression. “Good morning to you, king. When did you have time to make all of this? I’ve been gone like…” she checked her smartwatch to discover she unconsciously took an alternate route back. At least she sorted out her thoughts. Allegedly. “An hour, yeah.”

“Least I could do. I realized I was a total asshole and never said thank you for the delicious dinner. I’m not the best chef though, got to admit.”

Jo approached him in the kitchen to inspect his cooking, enjoying the thoughtful surprise. “Ah, come on. That was my pleasure. I love cooking.”

Jackson smiled at her and sneaked a kiss on her lips. Jo blinked curiously in response to his gesture but fought back with a kiss of her own. He analyzed her with the corner of his eye and enveloped her in his embrace to carry her to the couch.

“Jackson what are you doing, I am dirty and sweaty—”

“Don’t start a fight you don’t want to fight!” he placed her gently on the plush material to tower over her and initiate a kissing attack. Jo squirmed back and forth with loud giggles; her cap evaded somewhere on the floor, her ponytail loosened into wild strands, all the while Jackson showered her face with love. A foul smell mixing through the air flooded Jo’s nose.

“The eggs are burning, Jackson.”

“Shit. Fuck,” he laughed clumsily and made haste to the stove, releasing Jo from her imprisonment. “Look, this is not burnt. It’s just crisp.”

He showed the pan to Jo, pointing frantically at the light-brown eggs. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she did not like her scrambled eggs that way. Maybe she would even grow to like the dish simply because Jackson made it. “It’s fine, guapo. Don’t worry.”

Jackson’s free hand immediately spread over his chest upon hearing Jo’s pet name for him and a jubilant smile coated his features.

“I’ll go shower, okay? I won’t take long. Oh, but before that, I need you to tell me where we are going today.”

“No?” Jackson scoffed. “It’s a surprise.”

“I need to know what to wear. I only have heeled boots and sneakers, and my decision highly depends on your answer.”

“Ah, okay. Sneakers should be fine.”

“Perfect! Be right back. I like the music, by the way.”

Jackson took it as incentive to turn the music louder, and Jo gladly received it as great shower setup. Fine China started playing right after she angled the faucet, a singer’s captivating invitation. By virtue of promising Jackson, she would be fast to return to him, she skipped straightening her hair, freeing her mild curls from a soft scrunchie. She only applied a thin layer of BB cream and dressed in a black turtleneck and navy-blue jeans.

When she got out of the bathroom, the kitchen table had already been set. A bowl of freshly cut figs, pears and grapes graced the center, surrounded by toast and butter that Jo never remembered buying. Another set of scrambled eggs filled two plates, and she snickered at the fact that he went out of his way to make another. Her snicker alerted Jackson’s senses to look up from the sink and at Jo, and the look of adoration in his orbs instantly sketched a hue of rose on her cheeks.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous!” he spoke enthusiastically. “Is your hair naturally wavy?”

“Yes, I didn’t have time to straighten it—"

“I love it. Come sit down.”

Jackson pulled her chair which was set in close proximity to his that time around, and Jo promptly complied with his request. “Thank you, kind sir! Where did you get all these goodies?”

He seated himself at the table. “There’s a nice granny who sells fruit and vegetables at her small market downstairs. She says her son has an orchard outside of town, and she always brings seasonal treats. Did you know that figs are actually extremely easy to grow?”

“I think I do!” Jo extended an arm to snag half a fig from the fruit bowl. “My dad has a couple of these trees in his backyard, and he says they can last over Alaskan cold and Saharan heat.”

“Ah, fuck. I can’t surprise you with anything.” Jackson pouted through a chuckle.

“Never give up, please. I’m very eager to find out about everything that goes through your head. For example, where we are going today.”

He shook his head, eyes glued to hers. “My lips are sealed.”

“Mhm. How about I unseal them?” teased Jo.

“Please don’t,” Jackson protested with a smirk. and grabbed a slice of toast. “I really don’t want to tell you.”

“Fine. I’ll stop asking. Make sure to tell granny next time that these figs are amazing!”

He nodded and spread some butter on his slice. “Speaking of which, did Jaebum contact you? I gave him your number to talk about Saturday.”

“Not yet. I have some suggestions of my own to make, perhaps we’ll plan something really nice together. Oh! This reminds me,” Jo skipped away from the table to fetch her phone. “Bam messaged me earlier on Instagram.”

“Bam did?” Jackson approached the other as she showed the phone to him as well.

[bambam1a]: you know Kyle Hanagami AND DANCED WITH HIM????

[bambam1a]: wth girllll you’re so based

“What the hell does based mean?” Jackson asked with a distinctly confused visage.

Jo laughed, both at the texts and at the other’s innocent inquiry. “It means that you express approval or respect to someone else. Oh my God, he literally stalked me, this is a really old post from a couple years ago.”

Jackson blinked, until realization hit him. He abruptly turned to her. “Wait a second, you danced with Kyle Hanagami?”

“Sure did! Which tells me you don’t follow me on Instagram.”

Jo tapped on the Instagram reel Bambam replied to in her dm’s, trying to fight away Jackson’s frozen expression. The snippet of Kyle’s How Long choreography started playing on her phone. “He altered some of the moves to make it more suitable for a duet. I filmed a marketing campaign for him way back when and he was one of the very first people who endorsed my venture of establishing a company. I think Kyle brought in some of my first clients.”

Jackson watched the one-minute video intently, arms crossed over his chest, and head bobbing to the background music. He didn’t say a thing throughout the duration of the clip but started clapping his hands by the end of it. Jackson replayed it right away.

“I’m sorry, I was too focused on you to see whatever Kyle did next to you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re seriously good. Lines are so sharp and so controlled, like what the fuck pardon my French. Is there anything that you cannot do?”

“Thank you.” Jo dipped her head in a bow, to type an answer back to Bambam. “There were so many contemporary styles of choreographies we had to do in college for our plays, I had no choice but to hone the damn lines.”

[jmontgomery]: hahahaha thanks bam

[jmontgomery]: I respect you too homie

[jmontgomery]: I take it you enjoyed the stalking session

“You know,” Jo resumed after putting her phone back on the table. “I learnt the Python choreo, too! I wanted to jump on the TikTok trend back then, but I never had enough time to film it.”

“You know the Python choreo?” Jackson repeated in disbelief. “Let’s film it then!”

“Like what? You and me?”

“Did I stutter?”

Jo’s phone buzzed multiple times. She picked it up with a jolly snort.

[bambam1a]: you know what J

[bambam1a]: at least I had the balls to tell it to your face

[bambam1a]: cause Gyeom chickened out

[bambam1a]: 😎

[bambam1a]: say hi to Jack from me pls

[bambam1a]: ship you two btw

“This brat.” She joked and showed her phone to Jackson once again. He burst out laughing at his brother’s messages.

“They already gave you a nickname, J. Even more reason to shoot the video.”

 Jo opted to snatch another fig from the bowl. Jackson made a mental note to buy more of those the next time they would dine at home. J&J was not a bad combination at all.

“Let’s say we shoot the video. Where? I don’t even have appropriate clothes for that.”

Jackson clearly couldn’t take another nonsensical word coming out of Jo’s mouth. “I have a dancing studio at Team Wang. I also have a clothing line at Team Wang. And since I wanted to pick up the guitar anyway, it’s two birds with one stone or whatever.”

Jo lifted her arms up in straightforward surrender. There was no use fighting with Jackson anyway. In fact, the more she thought about it, the better the opportunity to break her new collaboration with Jackson to the world.

But she decided to push his buttons further. “Pick up the guitar? Whatever for?”

Jackson just stared at her, demonstrating an exasperated smile. She suddenly felt giddy.

“Fine, fine. You just had to say it and I would play any song you want me to.”

He tended to the cold eggs in his plate. “It’s good we understand each other.”

The trip to and from Team Wang’s headquarters was short, as was their detour. Jackson was fast to bring her a set of Team Wang t-shirt, pants, and cap, and Jo had to withstand a series of endless (yet extremely well received) compliments of how great she looked in his clothes. Taking into consideration the fact that the building was far from being empty and a considerable amount of people gathered round to watch the two shooting their dance, the episode was finished earlier than Jackson would have liked.

He would have sneaked in a kiss too, but who kept track of all those little trinkets?

And Jo would have slammed him against the wall, but then again, who kept the count going?

“That was surprisingly fast,” Jo commented as they found their way inside Jackson’s car once more and hit the road toward the secret destination. “I expected us to make more mistakes.”

“Are you kidding me? I am the only one who made mistakes.” Jackson countered and raked through his golden locks. “You are flawless.”

“Am not. Muscle memory I guess.”

“Yeah, I should have had that!”

Both laughed earnestly.

“I would have loved it if you kept my clothes on.”

Jo supported her body weight against the inner door, cheek resting into the plush of her palm. Her eyes drifted to the fleeting buildings of the outside world and sighed a tad louder. The car constantly on their tail, with two bulky looking men in charge of Jackson’s security detail, was a painfully obvious reason why Jo chose to revert to her mundane clothes. Even the black mask Jackson had prepared for himself was not a real deflection from the wondering eyes of the public.

Not in his base town, anyway.

When she failed to reply, Jackson did instead.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Please don’t ever apologize again.” She turned to look at him and welcomed the invitation of his hand on her knee. “Part of the job, isn’t it? And, as I told you before, I love myself a little limelight.”

Jo put her hand over his, giving It a gentle squeeze. “I’m in this with you, whatever it takes. I’m not a weak woman.”

The corners of Jackson’s lips lifted in a melancholic smile. “I know, Joanne. I know.”

It was past the second part of the day when Jackson and Jo reached the Nanxiang Water Town. Jackson parked his car in a reserved spot, somewhere close to the main entrance of the town, and Jo all but dashed outside the car to marvel at the ancient houses as they came to life from a distant past. Lanterns were prepared to spread their warm light across the intimate pathways, to pierce through the dense crowds.

Jackson matched the opening to speak to his bodyguards to keep a secure distance from the couple and prioritize Jo if something unpleasant were to happen. He placed an evanescent touch to the lower of her back to make her aware of his presence. He leaned down to whisper closer to her ear, visage shielded by the fabric of his mask. “Do you like it?”

Jo clasped her hands together and gave Jackson the brightest grin he had ever seen in his life. “I can’t wait for you to teach me more about your city!”

Jackson snaked his hand in hers, to interlace their fingers together. As Jo tried to pull away, he tightened the clasp. He began walking ahead and gave her the space to settle by his side, guiding her through the narrow openings of the crowds. The strong smells of spice and traditional cuisine rapidly filled Jo’s lungs.

Every time Jackson spoke to her, he approached her smaller frame, to be permanently close to her. “Do you know what xiao long bao is?”

He pointed to a more secluded stall, where an elderly man was cooking the dish. Jo shook her head to answer Jackson’s question.

“It’s a dumpling basically, and it’s traditionally served for breakfast. During the Moon Festival, you share it with your friends and loved ones and it’s said to strengthen your bond.”

Jackson stopped by the stall and acquired a bill from his wallet to buy 4 dumplings. Jo was eagerly listening to the story. “A restaurant owner added gelatin to the pork filling and boiled it. When he realized that the dumpling was filled with soup, and saw how yummy it was, he knew he hit the jackpot. And this is how you eat it.”

He drew the mask from his face to bite the top of the dumpling and steam linings evaded in the air. He slurped the soup from the inside of the dumpling, then stuffed it in his mouth. A sound of amazement tweedled from Jo’s throat and she lost no time to follow Jackson’s example. An identical sound followed as she munched on her dumpling, and her eyes twinkled. The merchant said something in Chinese to Jackson and the only thing she caught was xiè xie.

Jo looked up at Jackson when they resumed walking. “What did he say?”

He chuckled. “Do you want it word by word?”

“I’d appreciate it, yes.”

“He said that my wife is very beautiful and that I should teach her about our traditions.”

She preoccupied herself with the sole dumpling left in a pathetic attempt to disguise the redness of her cheeks. “To which I agree.”

Jo almost dropped the paper container where her serving was. Jackson laughed out loud. “That you’re beautiful of course.”

He did not comment further on the issue, and neither did Jo, so he ultimately let it go. It made Jo wonder if he pulled those words out of his ass but never confirmed her supposition.

“Say Jo, what would you say is an important first milestone in a relationship?”

Jo tapped an index against her chin before replying. “First fart I’d say.”

“Yes, right—Sorry, what?” coughed Jackson and had to confirm she was serious.

“Obviously,” she stressed her answer. “If you feel comfortable enough and safe enough to do that with someone, that must mean you’re in it for the long haul.”

Naturally, he wondered. “So… did you do that?”

“Jackson!”

He laughed again but in a defensive state. “What? Then it means we’re not there yet!”

She swatted his arm playfully and followed with laughter of her own. “You’re impossible.”

“I didn’t say shit, Jo.”

“What’s yours then?”

Jackson considered his answer for a little while. “Introducing her to my parents.”

Jo smiled at him and Jackson debated if her eyes ever turned into those shimmering crescents before. “I’d love to meet your parents someday. I’m sure they are very good people.”

She stopped dead in her tracks at the entrance of a souvenir shop. She could have asked anything of him and Jackson was convinced that anything she would have requested, he would have broken all hell loose to give it to her.

“Maybe they have dumpling key chains here…” Jo wandered through the various objects in the shop until she found the two key chains she was looking for. She swooped four magnets and happily skipped to the cashier’s booth to pay. Jackson chuckled and lightly gestured for her to put her phone aside. Another moment of their day when he wanted to kiss that pout of hers.

“They don’t have POS here, beautiful. It’s a traditional town.”

Jackson took the gift bag and thanked the cashier on their way out. “Besides, I wouldn’t have let you pay anyway, just as disclaimer.”

Jo sighed. “Fine. But one of those two keychains is yours. I thought it would be cute to mark our first official date together through this little something.”

“First date, huh?” he echoed and unconsciously squeezed her hand a little tighter. With no protest that time around. “Would you like to have more?”

“I mean, if you’re asking…” she winked at him. Her smile, as he would later find out, would be the death of him one day. “I would love to, yes.”

As their stroll approached the central point of the town, the splendid water canals spread just beneath their feet. A picturesque pier where various people were boarding gondolas caught Jo’s attention.

“Do you want to hop on one?” Jackson asked, keeping her close by his side to protect her from the swarm of people.

“Are you reading my mind or something?” she giggled and walked with Jackson to the dock. The image of the two bulky security men on a floating gondola amused her to no end. Jackson spoke to an open gondolier and was the first to embark on their canoe. He offered his hand to Jo, assuming a balanced stance. “Come, it’s shaky at first but you’ll get used to it quickly.”

There was no use asking anew if she trusted him; she didn’t bat an eye to his warning and all but jumped inside the raft, earning a raised eyebrow from the gondolier. She settled on the wooden stand and a latent shiver caused her body to tremble.

“Are you cold?” Jackson asked and immediately undressed himself of his jacket. He draped it over her shoulders, which she tried to give back.

“But your shirt fabric is thinner than my turtleneck.”

“Do you think I gained all this muscle for show?”

Jackson strained his bicep with an overly done serious aspect and Jo covered her mouth to suppress a chuckle. “Whatever, Superman. Suit yourself.”

Contrary to her words, she properly put on his jacket. Jackson wrapped an arm around her middle to tug her silhouette into his chest. With dusk fast approaching, the lanterns around town rapidly spread their mild light to paint the river in a scenic shade of yellow. Jackson picked up the habit of playing with her wild strands, curling them back and forth on his fingers.

“I always suspected you to be the romantic type, but I guess you have to see it with your own eyes to believe.”

“Ah me? I’m rusty as hell.”

Jo snuggled closer. Jackson put the mask on his face aside and placed a kiss to the crown of her hair.

“You’re doing just fine.”

The inflexions of the water traversed an invisible line only to surrender to the edges of their shared gondola. The night sky hinted at a full spectacle of the moon.

Jackson broke the otherwise comfortable silence. His voice lowered in an intimate tone, raspier but cozier all the same. “Do you think you’ll be working for long? In the future?”

“I have so many things I have yet to reach, so I think it’s hustle mode for a while. My next objective is to be listed in the Forbes 30 under 30 America. Any useful tips, from someone who’s already been there?”

“I don’t know. I guess I never really thought about it. I worked hard every day, and it just came naturally.”

Jo rolled her eyes. Not that Jackson would see it. “How did I never think about that?”

They laughed. “And what’s after that?”

She hummed. “It’s quite difficult to put into words, actually. I don’t know how you feel about it, but I think there will come a point when I’ll be able to say oh, I’m satisfied with everything I’ve achieved and it’s time for me to build on something beyond this. I’m not saying I want to retire forever necessarily, but at some point, I’ll pass my business down to someone. I don’t know what that is yet.”

Jo felt him hug tighter. She continued.

“I want to grow a farm. I’d love my kids to grow up with their feet in the grass, with three or four dogs to run around, fall and get dirty, get up and climb stuff. I want them to know nature and bask in it. And I want to have an orchard, and grow vegetables—"

“I’ll marry you.”

She paused for a fraction of a moment, then resumed. “Maybe if I have dogs, I’ll also have horses. And some chickens would be nice.”

Jackson’s loud outburst of laughter had her straighten her body to look at him. He caught his cheek in the palm of his hand, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

Jo had a confused look about her features. “Right, I did. Not the first time I ever heard it though.”

The bold moonlight bathed Jackson’s face in a divine display of sentiments, colors and unspoken emotions, so much so that the tiniest piece of Jo’s soul chased after his proposition. The veil of certainty portrayed over his whole being provoked her heart to pick up the beat.

“Go on, keep underestimating me. Makes me even more motivated to prove you wrong.”

The previous weekend’s events came across as a dream to Jo, who was back in her Seoul home, fighting her most terrifying monsters to keep focused on the actual work she had to complete. She was constantly twitching a pen between her fingers, her only anchor in the mundane of her meetings. Eyes were constantly drifting to her phone, keeping watch of the moment Jackson would write to her. Luckily, the busiest days were Monday and Tuesday only, and by the time she greeted the middle of the week, most of her urgent responsibilities had been taken care of.

She was editing her dance session with Jackson when an unknown number called.

“Hello?”

A familiar voice spoke in Korean on the other line. “Ah, hello, Jo-ssi? It’s Jaebum. Is this a good time?”

With very little time given to grow accustomed to the Korean culture, it still felt strange to use honorifics with Jaebum. In her mind, she grew up with the Got7 members.

“Yes, hello, Jaebum-ssi. Perfectly fine! Jackson mentioned you’d call today. It’s better to speak over the phone anyway.”

“Great then! I’m more old-fashioned that way too.”

Jo chuckled. She was genuinely happy Jackson had such good people in his life.

“Actually, if you are at home and you would be comfortable with it, could we switch to facetiming? I’d rather see the model of your camera and ask you to go through a couple of configurations.”

There was a short pause on Jaebum’s end.

“We don’t have to, and it’s totally fine! I guess it’s a professional defect of mine to see the people I’m talking to.”

“Ah no, no trouble really. Jinyoung is with me, and I asked him to pick up the camera. One moment, I’ll call you again.”

Jo switched to her laptop to pick up the call on her MacBook. Both Jaebum and Jinyoung dipped their heads in polite bows, and she immediately followed suit. The kind smiles on both faces proved they were much more relaxed than Jo expected. She was proud with herself for putting on makeup earlier that morning.

 “Much better! Nice to see you too, Jinyoung-ssi.”

“Likewise,” he offered. “Hyung had a lot of things planned and we hoped we could sort them out with you.”

Jo tested the waters with a joke. “I think we can plot all the scripts we want to plot. In the end, most of it is bound to be freestyle.”

It was well received; if Jinyoung smiled, then the initiation was complete.

“We can try.” Jaebum replied with a chuckle. “We know that we are an open book at this point.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

So, the three of them planned a sequence of events around three cakes, the indispensable game of rock-paper-scissors, a free talking segment, and a custom freestyle section dedicated to the fans. They discussed a couple of decorations to bring to the location of the filming site, and subsequently the party, which Youngjae and Bambam agreed to be at the same house where they threw Mark’s birthday celebrations.

Jinyoung appeared satisfied with the outcome. “That should do it then. Let’s see how much of it goes as planned.”

Jaebum grabbed at his chin, as if seriously measuring the chances of success. “I’d say, 75%? 80% maybe. What do you think, Jo-ssi?”

Jo mirrored his actions. “75% is generous, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed for it!”

“I told you hyung, you were stressing out too much to plan this. I agree with her.”

“Aish, what should we even do then?”

Jinyoung pointed at the other as he cussed out, and Jaebum covered his mouth with the back of his hand. Jo giggled and waved it away.

“Asia song festival you meant?”

Both were shocked she knew such an old, but very relevant still, meme of theirs. Jo laughed along with their snickers.

Jinyoung had to recognize talent when he saw it. “She’s good, hyung. Really good.”

“Aside from everything else, do you have a tripod and a soft box maybe? Even a ring light could do the trick. I’ll need to set up good lighting because I remember the house coloring was dark.”

“I don’t have a soft box, unfortunately. I think I had a medium sized ring light though, I’ll go search for it. I’ll leave Jinyoung with you to test out the camera settings.”

“Shouldn’t be too expensive to rent one, should it?” Jinyoung questioned as he opened the camera bag. Jo was ecstatic to see Jaebum had a Sony Alpha 7R Mirrorless, and, at a wild guess, it looked to be a 2024 model even.

“Let’s go baby! I like what I’m seeing, we’ll do wonders with this thing.”

Jinyoung laughed and unpacked the lens right after. “I take it you’re a Sony fan, then?”

Jo practically clapped her hands upon noticing the Sony FE 24-70mm F2.8 GM II lens. “It’s personal preference, really. My first camera was a Sony and even though the settings menu can be quite a pain to navigate sometimes, I feel like it offers best value for money. I have 6 different lens types I use, based on the context. I have this one, too.”

Jinyoung listened attentively. “I use Canon, personally. I don’t think I ever had trouble shooting the frames I wanted to with it. I do agree it’s gotten more expensive to buy their gear recently.”

“Right, again, I can say I’m biased. I’m familiar with Canon and I shot a good number of events with their gadgets, but I guess I like the depth and the rawness of the pictures I take with the Sony lens, if it makes sense. That lens that Jaebum-ssi has, it’s pretty good for day-to-day activities, wide shots, and it’s marvelous in low light. I would guess this is why he bought it as well.”

“I see. Maybe I’ll give it a try on Saturday. Who knows how I might change my mind about it. But I’m an amateur, really, so I cannot pretend I know that much about the topic as you do.”

Jo chuckled. The prince of Got7 for all the valid reasons. “My sister is an avid Canon lover. We always have debates about which is best and how to compare the models between brands. If you’re interested, I can give you her contact to chat about it. She’s a walking pedia.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened in curiosity. “You have a sister? I didn’t know.”

“How could you?” smiled Jo. “She’s a senior in Stanford. Her name is Catalina.”

“So, I found it, but it’s not as medium sized as I thought.” Jaebum’s voice echoed through the speakers, and Jinyoung turned to look at him. It was, indeed, a rather smaller sized ring light. The latter’s interest tacitly vanished with the leader’s appearance. “We should really rent a soft box, I guess. How did the setup go?”

“There was no need for this exercise. Jo-ssi knows your equipment inside out.”

“I suggest renting two soft boxes, to make sure the light is symmetrical on both sides. And this ring will be put to good use as well, I need to supplement the camera light anyway. Cables and all that stuff I have, I’ll need to connect the camera to the laptop to edit real-time, so we don’t need those.”

Jaebum took notes on a paper he had in proximity. “Noted. Let us know if you need anything else. I’ll make some calls to see what’s the best place to rent the equipment.”

“Perfect then! I don’t think we need anything else particularly. Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I have one more meeting to take care of for the day. Oh, and I hope we’ll drop the formalities soon!”

The rest of the day flew by imperceptibly. Jo’s last meeting went as well as it could have and, to keep the momentum going, she finished editing the choreography video she shot with Jackson. They decided together that they would surprise the team, as much as possible, and post it officially on Saturday morning. In the meantime, Samantha had called her to ask if she wanted to join her, Mark, Jonathan and Leena at the Seoul garage bar. Jonathan had discovered on a different occasion that the location hosted karaoke nights once a week, such as the night when Jo and Max sang on stage.

Jo was interested to find out the secret of how three of the most dependable surgeons in SMP managed to sync their off time schedules, and how it could be translated to daily activities in other industries if possible. It couldn’t hurt to investigate if the Universe could be maneuvered to give her and Jackson a well-deserved break at the same time. Preferably somewhere hot, on a beach with clear waters, that funneled the passion to carry other adjoining activities.

Jo packed a makeup bag to bring her necessities over to Samantha’s house in her vicinity, where they elected to get ready like the old girly times. Except Mark unequivocally accepted to be the third wheel, on Samantha’s well known living room couch, and most he could do was call Bambam on the side to help pass the time. Jo chuckled as they met, admiring his resilience.

“Do you need anything, ladies? A refresher, something to eat maybe?” Mark chirped from the living room, and Sam laughed at his inquiry.

“No, babe, we’ll let you know. Thanks!”

“Poor guy,” Jo giggled as she blended her blush. “Good thing Bambam picked up to keep him company.”

Because Mark was facetiming Bam and he was on speaker, the girls could hear his voice from the other room. “That’s no big deal. We take just as much time to get ready to go on stage. You’re used to it, Mark.”

“I’m not worried one bit. I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere. This couch is pretty comfortable.”

Bambam wiggled his eyebrows, but Mark cut him off before he had the chance to comment anything inappropriate. “Be careful with your words.”

“One of these days, you’re bound to hear it anyway. Better hear it when I’m not drunk! Ah, which reminds me,” Bambam cleared his throat to lightly shout. Mark detached the phone from his face just in time. “HEY J!! DID YOU LIKE THE DJ WE HAD FOR MARK’S BIRTHDAY?”

Jo and Samantha looked at one another and burst in giggles.

“He asked me the same thing earlier, but I guess he needs all the validation he can get. It’s his dignity on the line. Also, J? What’s that about?”

Jo walked to the living room, gesturing for Mark to give an explanation. “It’s Jo’s code name.”

“I’m jealous now! Do I have one?”

Jo approached Mark and received his phone. Only one of her cheeks was dyed with the rosy hue of the blush.

Bambam gave a thumbs up. “Ohhh, that’s pretty! Based.”

“Thanks, Bam! Yeah, DJ was cool, I liked his mixes. Why? You want to bring someone else?”

“Not really. I just wanted real opinions not some we don’t really care, you know best bullshit.”

“You know that Jaebum and Jinyoung don’t give a flying fuck about that as long as we have good music.” Mark commented, and Jo returned his phone.

“Pretty hypocritical if you ask me! How am I supposed to know if we have good music if you don’t tell me, you liked it or not!”

Jo wiggled her makeup brush in the air as she walked back to Samantha’s bedroom. “That’s fair.”

“J, huh? What are you now, 007?”

Jo pushed the other playfully with her shoulder. “He and Yugyeom stalked me on Instagram. I can only assume they dissected me in their group chat.”

“Welcome to the club!” Samantha scoffed. “Anyway, how’s Jackson? Is he coming tonight?”

“No, he’s not,” pouted Jo. “He’s not in Korea. I think he’s flying out here tomorrow. We chatted a bit earlier.”

All the sounds coming from the living room came to a suspicious halt. If the women didn’t know any better, they would say the boys were listening in for gossip. Jo carried on.

“I spoke to the Jae boys earlier about Saturday. When we talked about the camera gear setup and all that, a sudden cascade of missing Catalina washed over me.”

“Oh, so cute! How’s the little one doing? It’s been ages since I saw her last!”

“Not so little anymore,” Jo quipped and grabbed her highlighter. “She’s the splitting image of our mother now. I took whatever was American from dad, and she took all the hot Spanish genes from mom.”

“What, you have a sister?” Mark asked and detached the phone from his face again.

Bambam’s voice strained in a scream. “You have a sister, J? What’s her Instagram?”

Jo laughed. “She’s off limits, Bam!”

“Aww, where’s the fun in that? I was just curious, that’s all. At least tell us what’s her name.”

“Heard that one before.” Samantha remarked and applied her transparent lip gloss. “Catalina’s a Gemini, you’re not a good match.”

Mark translated the message from the other room. “Sam said Catalina’s a Gemini and you’re not a good match.”

“If it’s not written in the stars, there’s nothing I can really do about it.”

“What’s a good match with Gemini though?” Mark asked in return.

Samantha started cleaning the makeup stand where a significant assortment of products lay everywhere. Jo only had to do the last touches of her look before the group was ready to leave.

“Hmm, Virgos are the bast match, I think? Am I wrong Jo?”

“Hell if I know. What are we even doing here on behalf of my sister, who very much lives in San Francisco?”

Mark carried his translator duty once more. Whether he would admit it or not, he was invested in the scheme. “Sam says Virgos.”

“Who’s a Virgo in our group? Let’s see.” Bambam inspected the issue at hand on his phone. “So, you are a Virgo. Youngjae hyung is a Virgo…” he made a devilish pause. Not that the girls could notice it. “Jinyoung hyung is a Virgo.”

“Flowers could bloom in winter before we play cupid for Jinyoung.”

“Matches were made for less.”

Jo turned to Samantha, “What the hell are they doing, quoting Bridgerton now?”

“Boys will be boys. They’ll forget it in the morning.” Samantha walked out to the living room. “Hey babe, is Jinyoung coming with us to the bar?”

“Nope. He told me in some eloquent words that he doesn’t want to be the eighth wheel to the car.”

“Can’t really blame him. This is why we must find him a woman.”

Seoul Garage Bar was bustling with people. The bar seemed to be at full capacity, and Jo was glad she insisted Jonathan make a reservation. When the three of them arrived, Jonathan and Leena had been waiting for a short while. They indulged two cocktails as starters, which Jonathan later clarified about his that it was non-alcoholic since he was on call for emergency duty.

“Hello, cuties!” Jo greeted Leena with a kiss on the cheek. “You two are so adorable together.”

Mark shook Jonathan’s hand amicably, and Samantha was visibly delighted the two men were in better graces. Jo sat by Samantha’s side, and the chair to her right remained empty. Once a third wheel, always a third wheel. A waiter appeared at their table soon after to take their orders, and Jo negotiated with Leena to share a pizza.

“So, are you singing anything for us tonight, Jo?” Mark broke the ice, capturing his glass of beer. He complimented Jonathan’s choice.

Jo chuckled, twirling the straw in her Cosmopolitan. “News travels fast around these parts, huh?”

“It’s so funny to me a singing and dancing Jo still comes as a shock for everyone else.” Jonathan clinked his glass against Mark’s. “We were always first row at her plays in college.”

“I had that paperboard painted with #1 fan here! That was so exhausting to hold, really.”

Leena smiled. “You guys promised me you’d show me that Spanish piece that had recruiters banging at her door.”

“That’s a long time ago,” Jo waved her hand in dismissal. “My voice is not even half as good now. We used to do constant vocal coaching back then. I almost got kicked out of a programming exam because I was humming the damn exercises.”

The group vibrated with high spirits. Mark’s phone lit up between the lines, just as the bar’s host invited people to sign up for the ongoing karaoke session. He couldn’t have asked for better synchronization. Mark gestured with his hand to keep Jo’s attention to him. Their table was situated in opposition to the door, so she had no way to spot anyone who would approach.

“Now or never, Jo! I bet they’ll let you open the night with how successful you were the other day.”

“Ah, I don’t know, guys. I’ll think about it.”

“What if I ask nicely?”

Jo abruptly turned at the all-familiar voice that strung at her heart in the most divine accords. She bounced from her chair to circle her arms around his neck and immerse in his warmth. Jackson caught her right away, a secure hand holding her back, with the other knitted over her middle. In her doll pump heels, Jo matched Jackson’s height, and it was toxic to the depths of the soul to deny their reunion kiss. She was the epitome of purity, in her straight dark midi dress, adorned with a dazzling white puff-sleeved shirt, which tied an imposing ribbon at her collarbone. He gathered every miserable ounce of restraint to only kiss her temple, hugging her as closely as humanly possible.

Jackson lingered to whisper in the intimacy of her ear. “You’re absolutely beautiful, princess. I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too, Jackson. So much.”

The two had to break their embrace prematurely, in an empty satisfaction of stolen fervid glances and suble touches.  

“Thank God Jackson,” Samantha complained as she high fived him. “What the fuck reason could I have given her to have her dolled up like this?”

Mark moved forward to hug his brother. “Me and Bam almost fucked up. Don’t plan surprises with us next time.”

“If not you, who can I plan with?” Jackson laughed and extended his arm over the table to shake Jonathan’s. “Nice to see you again, Jonathan.” Then smiling to the man’s darling. “Leena, a pleasure.”

Jackson intended to pull Jo’s chair, but she delicately refused. “You ganged up on me like this, and I think I can call you my friends? Now I have to go sign up for a song. Excuse me.”

“Attagirl.” Jackson brushed his hand over the small of her back. He sat in the formerly empty chair next to Jo’s, jolting his wrist to arrange his accessories around it. A waiter brought his whiskey on the rocks at the table. Jackson followed Jo through the crowd with his eyes until she reached the DJ’s booth.

“So, how’s everyone doing?”

“Stressed out,” Samantha chuckled, then sipped from her Mojito. “I wanted to tell her so badly that you were joining us.”

“Good thing me and Bam plotted Jinyoung’s romance to keep silent about your arrival.”

Jonathan chuckled. “You must chill out, my dudes. We’ll have all of y’all married by the end of next year at this pace.”

Jackson relaxed in his chair, draping an arm over Jo’s chair. “You absolutely have to tell me who we’re pairing Jinyoung with.”

Samantha sipped again from her cocktail, an eyebrow cocked at the question. “Jo’s sister apparently.”

“Shut up.” Jackson’s eyes widened, threatening to escape out of their orbits. He leaned over the table to look at Mark. “How did you come up with this shit, Mark?”

“Keep it in the family quite literally.” Leena snickered and Jonathan facepalmed himself.

“Don’t look at me like that, Jacks,” Mark began his defense. “Bam had this incentive to look up her Instagram, then unfortunately Sam said their star signs don’t match.”

She shrugged her shoulders defensively. “Allegedly.”

Mark continued. “Thanks, babe. And yeah, Virgo apparently matches well with Gemini. And Catalina is a Gemini, you guys do the math.”

“Shut up!” Jackson repeated and took the glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked at the others. “What star sign is Jo?”

Jonathan cackled over the other’s question. “Too late to back down now.”

Samantha glared at Jonathan. Then turned to Jackson. “She’s a July Leo. As it happens, she is your best match by the stars.”

A rambunctious round of applause caused the group to focus their attention on the stage, where Jo was being presented by the bar host. Jackson clapped as loud as he managed, a noble smile decorating his features. He could make eye contact with Jo directly from where he was sitting. She switched to Korean, encouraged by the host to say a few words.

“Good evening, everyone! You might remember me from last week, when I sang APT.”

Jo waited for another round of applause to die down. There were a couple of familiar faces in the crowd, yet all she focused on was Jackson’s encouraging grin. She almost giggled at the heart he boasted with his hands.

“Mr. Kang here allowed me to open the night, so I must apologize because the song I chose to sing is not so upbeat. I was happy to hear that one of the talented members of the band knows how to play it on this piano behind me. This is Für Elise.”

Samantha peeked at Jackson who was already disconnected from the surrounding world, in full focus to the woman who became the center of attention. If there was any blatant love song characteristic of Jo’s style, Für Elise was the obvious love confession choice. Just as her eyes wondered to the door, she caught a glimpse at Max, leaning against the doorframe, in a company of four unknown figures. Samantha kicked Jonathan under the table, whose forehead furrowed.

“What was that for?”

He convinced himself of the fact when he followed Samantha’s gaze to the entrance. Mark leaned closer to his beau. “What’s going on?”

“Max is here.”

The piano’s incipient notes tamed the background noise of the bar until it was nonexistent. A various collection of phones had already been aimed at Jo.

I'll dance / I'll dance like a puppet on your string / I'll sing when you order me to sing—

With each passing tone, a mellow glimmer began rooting in Jackson’s eyes, as much as it began nourishing in his soul.

You're so musical, an artist / You make a lie sound like it's true

You're unusual, creative / Oh, what I'd do to be your muse —

Jo’s eyes locked with her lover’s. “You are.” Jackson murmured under his breath; in fear any louder sound would break the porcelain equilibrium in the bar.

I'll jump / I'll jump, if you ask, I'll say, "How high?"

I'll run like a shiver down your spine / For you, I would give you my own life—

Leena was swift enough to capture a short video of the intimate moment, of Jackson admiring Jo as she poured her heart out to the audience. She remembered Samantha talking to her about the fairytale connection Jo and Max had shared at one point during their lives. Leena thought she was wrong; the connection she shared with Jackson was incomparable, needless of any words.

The last part of the song was arranged in a series of high notes and head-chest voice, that had the gallery holding their breaths. Mark observed Jackson and smirked to himself. Smitten was a shy word.

Won't you play me like / Play me like my name is Für Elise.

As the piano played its last chord, a short moment of absolute silence engulfed the room. Then, the audience erupted in an impassioned round of cheers that took everyone by surprise. Jackson had no reaction initially. How could he, as mere spectator to Jo’s grandeur?

Leena was the first to break the table’s quiet. “There is no way Jo had not practiced in a while. I won’t believe her if she tells me that she wakes up with that voice of hers.”

“To think we’ve heard that before is crazy.” Jonathan doubled up on his girlfriend.

All eyes shifted to the obscure presence at the other end of their table, where Jackson was sitting. The latter noticed Mark’s eyes lifting in a vigilant action, so Jackson pursued his friend’s gaze. A taller figure, with a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips, was leaning against the wooden surface.

“She’s absolutely divine, muy bella, isn’t she?”

Previous chapter

[write-it-good-imagines]

Every Rule Has An Exception - 4

Hello loves~ long time no see! I'm back with our next chapter and I must say we're getting closer and closer to spicier more interesting things!! Here's to deepening our intrigue and all these unspoken feelings which make me shake. Anyway, do enjoy and let me know what you think of it <3 P.S: this is the playlist I used to write this chapter. The two songs I mentioned below can be found in this playlist as well. Enjoy!

±9k words || romance || fluff || sexual tension || feelings || friends-to-lovers || jackson wang

“Whose idea was it to come here again, Sam?”

“The way this looks to me is that Jonathan is extremely happy with himself, Jo.”

And it truly appeared that Jonathan was having a good time, throwing jokes around with Max and getting more relaxed around Henry’s presence. On the boys’ side of the table, time did not seem to have passed at all, and Jo was under the impression that she was living a fresh scene in Stanford’s former cafeteria, where students would often throw parties. The location that was chosen for the night, Seoul Garage Bar, was giving youthful entertainment vibes, with live band and music to round up the setup.

“I think I’ll go to the bar to grab a drink,” Jo whispered to Samantha, “Do you want anything?”

“Not now. Do you feel awkward?”

Jo chuckled and jumped off the chair. She straightened her black tulle trousers and the red suit jacket over the black corset hugging her chest. “I do. I think I’ll need something to ease into this…” Jo made sure the men were not paying attention to her discussion with Samantha and gestured over the table, “…whatever this is.”

Jo left before she had the chance to meet Leena’s apologetic look and seated herself on a tall stool at the bar. She was surprised to see the Sangria on the menu and was eager to order one. It reminded her of the warmth of Palma de Mallorca beaches.

Could she steal Jackson away from the world and enjoy a wild getaway on the Mallorca coast for a little while?

“Hey, we’re missing you in the group. Is it me you’re running away from?”

Maybe it was Jo’s brain fantasizing too much about spending time with Jackson that she barely managed to hide the disappointment when she discovered it was Max who asked the question. She chuckled.

“No, Max, absolutely not. You can imagine this setup is quite difficult for me to comprehend.”

“Come on,” Max nudged Jo’s shoulder and smiled at her, “I haven’t seen in you in too many years, but I still get the gist when you’re hiding something.”

Jo dropped her head with a giggle, spinning the drink in her glass. Maximilian, the lovely Spaniard Max, who always wore a handsome smile and elegant clothes, was right. Most of the times he happened to be right, and that night was no exception.

“Least I can do is try not to make you uncomfortable, Max.”

“The way I see it, you’re the uncomfortable one here.”

Jo laughed, and so did Max. He seemed to carry no hard feelings toward her, or, if he was, he was hiding them well. Max looked somewhat taller to Jo, and she observed a tattoo on his forearm that he had not had years before. He ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

“Caught me red handed, I will admit. I was surprised to hear you were in Seoul. How is that cast on your ankle by the way?”

“Ah, this?” Max pointed to his foot, which he then hit against the table. “Rock solid, I’d say. I told them I didn’t need it, but you know how these doctors are.”

He thanked the barman for the drink and continued.

“I am here to direct and be the lead actor in a musical here. You’d be surprised to hear, but I am quite a big shot at my agency these days. We’ll have 6 representations in Seoul across three months. We were rehearsing the choreo, and a small accident happened.”

“Wow,” Jo was impressed. After leaving him some years before, she made a mental note to detach herself from their former situation. If Max came across the world to direct musicals in Seoul where the competition was among the fiercest, he must have made it big. “I’m happy for you, truly.”

“Thanks!” Max replied joyfully and Jo felt her tension dissipating. “Sometimes I replay the plays we had in college when we were leading festivals together. I still feel like the La Llorona was my most successful to this day!”

“True!” Jo chuckled and turned her body towards him. “We won the first prize in the collegiate tour, didn’t we? The vocals for that musical killed my throat for a full week. Good times.”

“Yeah, good times.” Max agreed and Jo noticed his eyes softening. He was looking at the ice in his glass. “I’m not mad at you, you know.”

A sigh bubbled out of Jo’s lips. In hindsight, the way she chose to run away and disappear from Max’s life was not fair to him. He, too, was reaching out for his dreams and was working just as hard to conquer them. Trying to justify that her reasons were more glorious than his feelings was wrong. Even more so because she knew Max loved her.

“I suppose I should have been mad, and I was, for a while. But you’re one of the most successful people that I know, so maybe that balances it out. If you hadn’t fulfilled your goals, I would have felt betrayed.”

Max looked back at her and caught Jo off guard. Whether he wanted it or not, he made her feel guilty. Rightfully, so.

“Saying sorry doesn’t amount to shit now, Max. But believe it or not, I beat myself over that.”

He shook his hand. “Ah, I knew we couldn’t have had a long-distance anything. You’re not the type to do that.”

Jackson popped up in her thoughts once more. Jo felt like a hypocrite because she was not the type to commit to a partner who was always physically far away, was she?

“Yeah.” Jo accepted and gulped the rest of her Sangria. The band had apparently ended the first part of their program, and a club host announced that for the following 30-minute break, they would introduce a karaoke segment.

A sudden smirk spread on Max’s features. “Like the old times?”

Jo could not believe her ears. “Oh no, I’m not singing.”

“Do it for me, Jo. You can’t tell me you don’t miss the stage.”

“I mean, I haven’t done this in a long time—"

Max virtually ignored Jo’s reply and stood up from his stool. “Your voice doesn’t need any warmup. I hope you know APT!”

“APT? That’ would be me singing more than you!”

There was no room for Jo’s protests in Max’s agenda, and all that was left for her to do was return to the rest of the group at their table. Needless to say, all eyes were on her as she sat down.

“What are you staring at you freaks?”

“You two were gone quite a long time.” Jonathan commented and Henry nodded his head at the former’s affirmation.

“Did he rub your unholy ghosting in your face?” Samantha laughed.

“Funny. No, but we did talk about the past. It’s good taste for me to not give you any details,” Jo leaned over the table. “But he wants me to sing APT. up there with him during this karaoke thing.”

“Least you can do, to be honest.” Henry offered.

“Sing? How many more things can you do, Jo?” Leena asked and clasped her hands together in a joyful manner. Jo’s reaction was on the other end of the emotional spectrum, with a funny knot in her brows.

“Jo has a minor in musical theatre. If you look up Sandford’s winning festival pieces, I’m sure you’ll find the Spanish one starring Jo and Max.”

A club host tapped his finger against the two microphone stands prepared on stage.

“Good evening, everyone! We received a request from Max right here to sing APT with his friend. So, I humbly ask Jo to join us here on stage!”

“Happy lady Jo,” Jo sighed and finished the rest of Samantha’s cocktail. Behind her, everyone was cheering and whistling for the upcoming performance. Her heeled sandals clicked against the acoustic floor of the stage where Max was waiting for her. He covered his microphone with one hand and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Like the old times.”

Jo looked over at him and rolled her eyes. Which she always did before their joined performances. “Like the old times, Max.”

The backtrack echoed in the silence of the club and all eyes turned to the stage. Jo eased into the playfulness of the song and was determined to give a good performance once she noticed the moving camera around the scene. As Jo finished singing the first verse, a loud cheering sound surged in the club.

“She’s a natural! Do you see those stage movements?” Leena declared and started clapping her hands as Max hyped up the crowd.

“Wait for the chemistry between them two. For two years they were the leading stars of Stanford’s musical theatre team. Jo was busy studying for her major most of the time, but Max had little to no connection with anyone else, so they had no choice but to keep her.” Samantha completed and fully faced the stage. Max’s body was always aligned with Jo’s, his eyes dancing between the audience and his stage partner. As he started his second verse, and later jointly sang with Jo, there was little difference between their performance and that of the original artists. By the end of the song, all people in the restaurant started singing along.

And as expected, Jo and Max completed one another as if no day had passed since their last time together on stage.

“That right there is the type of chemistry you read about in books.” Samantha came closer to Leena to point at the two protagonists. “I am absolutely sure that if Jo hadn’t been married to her career, she would have been married to Max.”

Thundering applause reverberated in the club when the song finished, and Jo noticed that other people had their phones out to film. Max bowed to his audience, and Jo followed his example. The small journey back to their table was perhaps one of the most triumphant in Jo’s recent period. Jo looked up at Max, who was considerably taller than she was, and was under the impression that she relieved a forgotten warmth for the other.

The following two days leading to Jo’s departure to China were hectic, and the rhythm quickly depleted the newfound energy of her outing with the group. Max did not contact her, and neither did she; they followed one another on Instagram, and she noticed that his stories were full of rehearsal videos. Jo returned to her normal rhythm, working when possible and packing the necessities for her trip whenever she found some room to breathe.

Thursday morning was quick to arrive and had Jo in an unusual frenzy to get up and get ready. Jo prepared her Tom Ford pastel pink suit, formed by a double-breasted jacket and cigarette pants, and paired it with a long sleeve lavalliere blouse of the same brand. She completed the look with a pair of Jimmy Choo slingbacks, took her small suitcase and exited the house to the pedestrian pathway to wait for the Uber. A light breeze made her wavy strands of hair to tremble in the wind. The end of September was preparing to put a definite close to the summer temperatures, and Jo figured she would have to buy one or two coats in the days to follow.

Jo could not explicitly tell when the morning had passed entirely, and it could have been due to her unexpressed excitement to just go through with her mundane tasks to fly out to Jackson’s home city, to his house, to his intimacy. And perhaps the Universe would endure and toy with her time to flow as fast as possible until her wishes would come true. Jo’s eyes wandered to a faraway distance throughout the trip to the airport, in search of a means to settle an obscure sentiment in her stomach. Even though the enthusiasm was undeniably there, her conversation with Max from the other day replayed in her mind.

“I hope this is not the last time I see you all, guys!” Max cheered as the group departed from Seoul Garage. “We had a blast!”

“Definitely did, dude! Can’t believe it’s been this long.” Jonathan completed and extended his arm for a bro hug with the other. “Give us a call when you’re free and we can make it work.”

“Maybe go to karaoke again next time! Jo has yet to tell us many things about herself!”

Leena’s comment caused a smile on Jo’s face. As Samantha left to meet up with Mark, Jonathan and Leena found their own way back home and Henry returned to the hospital, Jo was the only one to stay behind with Max to wait for the nightly bus. Max seemingly lived in a nearby area to Jo’s.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they really post that on their social media channels. We’ll be viral.” Max broke the silence and took out a pack of cigarettes. Jo arched her eyebrow.

“When did you start?”

Max chuckled when Jo refused to pick one up for herself. “When did you stop?”

“Fair point.”

“Hey Jo, listen,” Max began with a hesitant inflection in his voice. “With the risk of sounding like a total asshole, do you have someone?”

Jo folded her arms over her chest and looked away. She expected the question to come out sooner or later.

“I saw you smiling at your phone earlier by mistake, so I was wondering, you know.”

“We’re not together.” Jo spoke and noticed the ash falling from Max’s cigarette.

“Is he a good guy?”

Jo nodded her head. Max gave the feeling that he was pleased with her tacit answer.

“Is he here with you? Physically, I mean.”

Jo shook her head. For some unknown reason, she found it tough to look into Max’s eyes.

“That’s unfortunate,” he laughed and crushed what was left of it with the sole of his foot. ��Is it any different than it was with me, Joanne?”

The woman caught the bus coming from a distance with the corner of her eye, and felt a greater presence had offered a favor she did not deserve. Any less than Max deserved her silence. “If it ever comes to that, I hope you’ll admit to your friends that you love him.”

The bus stopped at the station and Max waved with his hand, signaling that he planned to onboard the next one. He was smiling, still, and it made Jo wonder how much he hurt after she left with no explanation.

“Don’t be ashamed Jo, it doesn’t suit you. We both know you loved me, and you just did what you thought was right.”

“Your flight pass, Miss?”

The flight attendant cracked Jo’s chain of thoughts, and she offered her ticket to the other.

“Please follow me to business class.”

Jo had never checked her ticket and was surprised to discover that Jackson had taken care of all details, even for a two-hour flight. She was grateful she did not have to share a seat with anyone, and she made herself comfortable in the high-touch plush of the chair. Jo picked up the menu and ordered a truffle pasta dish, eager to fill her empty stomach.

The flight went smoothly, barely giving Jo enough time to get accustomed to the altitude difference before the plane had to land in Shanghai. She took her belongings and exited the plane toward the arrival terminal. Jo noticed a sign with her name on it and met the two people waiting for her. She recognized one of them as part of the team with whom she had several meetings in the past days.

“Jackson figured it would be better for a friendly face to meet you here,” he explained, and his companion took her luggage. “He left this for you.”

The man offered a sealed letter in a caramel envelope which Jo could only accept. On the back of the envelope, Jackson’s name was written in what appeared to be his handwriting.

“Thank you.”

Jo refrained from opening the letter in the car, notwithstanding the boiling curiosity in her veins. The nightlife of Shanghai was sketched gloriously in the rushed motions outside of the car, and with each passing moment, the vibrant colors and neon lights pulled Jo in a mirage. She lowered her window halfway to allow the foreign air to enamor her lungs.

“Could we stop by a supermarket on our way to Jackson’s apartment?”

“Oh, just let us know what you would like. We’ll contact the catering firm to prepare the food once we’re close enough to our destination—”

“There’s no need for that,” Jo interrupted the other man. “I’ll buy some groceries and prep a meal for tonight.”

He turned in his passenger seat to look at Jo and she almost burst out laughing at his stunned face. “But we have everything prepared, we just have to make a call.”

“As I said, could you cancel any cooking service that you had in place? I would like to cook. My shopping won’t take longer than 20-30 minutes tops. I assume Visa works here, doesn’t it?”

Without much of a choice left for the two men to make, they reluctantly had to stop at one of the biggest supermarket retailers and wait for her in the parking lot. Jo was lucky to notice that the product names were displayed in both the Chinese and Latin alphabets, so she had no major issues finding what she was looking for, plus some extra cooking gadgets. In a record 25 minutes, Jo was back to the car with her shopping cart, and she found her distressed companion in a call with another. Their conversation was carried in Chinese, and she presumed it was Jackson on the other end of the line.

“Could you tell Jackson I said hi?” Jo chuckled and the driver helped her transfer the groceries and the pack of water bottles to the trunk. Soon enough, she was handed the other’s phone to confirm her hunch. Jackson was laughing when she picked up.

“How did you know it was me?”

“I mean, it was a bit obvious, with me refusing all your nightly preparations to do as I please. He must have panicked a bit, so I thought this is one of the call me if anything is wrong situations.”

“Spot on. Is this the feisty Jo I was warned about?”

Jo chuckled and seated herself back into the car. “Who knows? It’s just absurd to me that you went all out to arrange all these things.”

“Anything for you. But you should have taken my card to pay.”

Jo rolled her eyes to account for the cheeky smile on her features. “You’re cute, I’m not gonna lie. Your money is your money, Jackson.”

He scoffed. “I can always make that again, you know.”

“So can I. I don’t see the problem.”

Jackson scoffed again. Then he sighed. Jo was annoyingly satisfied with herself.

“It’s very clear to me that there’s no use arguing with you about it, so I’ll let it go. Just know that I was very serious when I said anything for you.”

Jo stole a glance at the man in the passenger seat who looked uncomfortable that he failed his mission. Appreciating the fact that the other spoke English and her conversation with Jackson was not private, she switched to Korean.

“Anything for me, huh? Why?”

Jackson was quick to understand the subtlety to reply in the newly chosen language. “You didn’t read my letter, then.”

“No, I wanted to have some privacy to open it. I take it is personal?”

“Won’t give any spoilers, except to tell you that I’m 100% real in what I wrote in there. I don’t want to fuck around when it comes to you.”

Jo leaned against the seat, taking a shaky breath. Her eyes drifted to a vivid spectacle of colors. Intuition was telling her they were getting closer to the central area of Shanghai. She abruptly remembered a verse of a song, no one knows me like the piano in my mother’s home.

Jo spoke again, yet in a lower, and for the first time in a while, more insecure tone. “How can you be so sure?”

Maybe Jackson picked it up. “Hey, if there’s one thing that I know is that we can’t be sure of anything while we live. I don’t want to blow it because I was too scared.”

The car stopped at the entrance of a residential area. “We’re almost here, miss.” Jackson’s team member communicated.

“I heard that,” Jackson chuckled, giving the impression that the softness of his words was an abandoned illusion. “Call me if there’s anything you can’t find, or if there’s anything that doesn’t work. And welcome home, Jo.”  

As Jo found herself alone in the foreign apartment, the initial feeling that she was out of place grew exponentially. The entire place was spotless and minimalistic, which pushed for the awkward idea that she was an inconvenient presence. Jo slapped her cheeks lightly to gather her lost composure and quickly kicked her shoes at the door. She placed the grocery bag on the kitchen countertop to unpack it, storing part of the food inside the empty fridge and spreading the other aliments neatly around the kitchen. She was happy she bought a pot and a new pan to have at hand for the meals she planned to cook. Jo then unpacked her pajamas from the suitcase and went to the bathroom to wash her body and mind of the entire day. The bathroom was fully equipped with towels, a new pack of toothbrushes, and a set of dermato-cosmetics. Jo giggled to herself; she must have thought all men use a 7-in-1 for their body hygiene.

Jackson left no room for mistakes.

After the quick shower, she wrapped her hair in a Turkish style turban and plopped on the couch in the living room. Jo noticed her handbag on the small table by the couch and reached for it to retrieve Jackson’s letter. She was not confident that she would not rip it to shreds by hand, so she got a knife to try and protect its integrity.

The folded paper inside was white and simple, and the letters could be seen through the material. She was a little nervous to read through his handwriting.

Dear Jo,

Welcome to Shanghai! I am very happy that you’re here. I hope that my humble house is to your liking and if there’s anything that makes you feel bad about your stay here, please don’t hide it from me.

“Typical Jackson.” She giggled, then resumed reading.

I wish I could’ve spent tonight with you, but I’ll make up for the empty house starting tomorrow. I cancelled everything I had this weekend, to be with you, and to spend as much time as you’d like us to spend together. I already talked to the team about the business plans for tomorrow.

Jo’s heart picked up a beat.

I think you remember that I saved a picture of you in my phone. Since our last kiss, I keep on telling myself that I don’t want you to be sad when you’re with me. I want you to be as happy as you are in that photo all the time. I know it’s impossible, but I made it my mission to have you smiling when we’re together. I want you to dictate the pace for us, so I didn’t plan anything in advance for the next few days, but if you want to do anything, your wish is my command.

“Damn you.”

Can’t wait to see you again.

P.S: I am a fucking coward, and I know I wouldn’t have been able to tell you all that I wrote on this paper. I’d rather you would remember these words without me stuttering them. Trust me, my hand is all sweaty as I write this. Anyway, I promise you I’ll man up to repeat it to your face.

Jo let out a loud groan and dropped her body into the comfort of the furniture. Her heart was beating just as fast, and she covered her eyes with the hand that was not holding the letter. “What am I going to do with you, Jackson?”

The next morning, Jo woke up before sunrise. Her night’s sleep was light and restless, and full of raging thoughts. There was a turbulent battle carried between heart and mind, the heart that longed to give in to Jackson’s words, and the mind that condemned her for giving in to a situation where she had hurt another’s heart by running away.

What did she run away from? Jealousy, fear of unfulfilled needs? Insecurities?

Jo prompted her body upwards from Jackson’s bed, where a familiar scent of perfume lingered between the sheets. She tended to crinkled fabric of the bed linen, then went on to do the morning routine. She fell asleep with the towel still wrapped around her hair, so her chosen style had to be natural and straight. Jo stopped her eye cream application briefly to pick up a call from Samantha.

“Good morning to our newest Shanghai residents!”

“Just morning, thank you.” Jo replied as she was tapping the product into her skin.

“Oh my, quite cranky today, are we?” Samantha laughed and broke Jo’s stance.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you. I barely got to sleep a wink.”

“Yeah, I suppose it takes some time to get accustomed to unfamiliar beds.”

Jo chuckled and shook her head. “Do you have something to say?”

“Fine, sorry, I’ve had my fun. Are you feeling well?”

“Mhm, so and so,” Jo commented and rushed to the kitchen to make breakfast. “Unfamiliar beds are supposed to be my thing, travelling from hotel to hotel, you know.”

Samantha paused for a while. “But?”

Jo sighed and cracked two eggs in a bowl to mix them up for an omelet. “Jackson wrote me this intimate letter that essentially turned my insides upside down and now I’m really conflicted with myself.”

“You think you’re not ready?”

Sometimes, the way Samantha knew Jo and her patterns was disturbing.

“I don’t know. I keep replaying the conversation I had with Max the other day and I’m feeling guilty for trashing away a man who loved me.”

Samantha paused again. “You don’t think Jackson loves you though.”

“No, I don’t. I mean, I don’t think so. He’s giving me all this space to do it at my own pace and I’m just scared to hurt him.”

“Don’t let the guilt eat you alive, Jo. Max was in the past; he has nothing to do with who you are now.”

Jo stirred the eggs in the pan silently.

“He’s in the past Jo, isn’t he?”

“He is. It just hit me that I never allowed myself to get closure.”

“Closure for what?” Samantha came across as slightly irritated. “Jo, you left him. Whatever do you need closure for?”

She put the omelet on a clean plate. “Closure for the fact that I don’t know how to love a person.”

“Oh, that could not be further from the truth.”

Jo scoffed as she seated herself at the table. She took the first bite from her breakfast.

“Jo, stop pushing yourself in that dark hole. You love me, and you love your team back in America, and for better or for worse, you loved Max. You just do what you think is best for you.”

“Funny, Max said the same thing to me.”

“Well, it looks like you need to hear it again. The only thing you need to learn is to stop being a selfish bitch.”

“Ouch,” Jo laughed and took another bite. “Kinda rude.”

“Tough love. I hate it when you’re being self-sufficient. Or if you want to keep being self-sufficient, stop playing with Jackson’s time. I’m sure he has so many things to offer, so take it or leave it.”

Thanks to Samantha’s vigorous pep talk, Jo received the opportunity to think some more about her undefined situation with Jackson and her own feelings and consequently spent the entire trip to the Team Wang headquarters pondering over her friend’s words. She arrived 40 minutes earlier and was escorted by the driver into the building’s lobby. In respect of Team Wang’s identity and color palette, she wore a black Balmain two-piece suit, composed of a wool blazer and high-rise flared knit pants.

Jo marveled at the modern design of the building and was impressed by the way the most two opposant non-colors of the spectrum could create such a bold architecture. The white marble floor was an exceptional touch.

“Do you like it?”

Jo lowered her eyes to meet Jackson’s silhouette and his appreciative smile. He was dressed head to toe in Team Wang attire, which was a powerful statement from the company’s own CEO. It suited him well.

“I love it. You’re outdoing yourself every day, Jackson.”

Fortunately, Jo’s stoic persona was stronger than her desire to wrap her body around Jackson’s. In the three weeks that had passed, the eagerness to see him, feel him, was almost akin to an untamed animal.  

The untamed animal that threatened to come out the moment Jackson stepped closer to hug her.

“I missed you. I love your designer looks, you’re absolutely beautiful.”

Jo draped her arms around his frame loosely. She shouldn’t have questioned Jackson’s eye for fashion. “I missed you too. I wanted to be conscious of the wandering eyes.”

Jackson did not mind the other people in the lobby, nor the fanatic fans and clients sitting outside of the imposing glass doors. Another bold statement from a public person such as himself; then again, it was not anything out of his ordinarily touchy, casual persona.

Still, he pulled away at her words. “I’m sorry, did this make you uncomfortable?”

“No, not at all. I usually love being the center of attention, but I’d hate to bring a useless scandal for you.”

Jackson extended his arm to guide her to the side staircase in the hall. Jo noticed it was guarded by two sturdy men and wondered if they had unpleasant incidents to have tight security. “Appreciate it, really. I want to protect your privacy more than anything. I am trying to build mine back up but it’s quite the challenge nowadays.”

Jo was happy she had chosen to wear her slingbacks that day, too. The marble was tough on her feet.

“Everyone is here. We prepared a meeting room, with all the tools we need for digital presentations. I ordered some pastries for breakfast; the order should be here any moment now.”

Jo was thankful to whomever had told her that being on time meant always being late. “Always so thoughtful, thank you. I had breakfast at home.”

Jackson displayed a genuine smile and earned one from Jo as well. “Well then, the earlier we start, the faster we can go home, right?”

Jackson led her to a sizable area opposite the staircase. When they reached the meeting room, he opened the door to allow her to be the first one to step inside. At a rough estimate, Jo counted 8 people seated at the square table, and all stood up to greet her as she entered the space. The only empty chair was the one reserved for the head of the table, and Jo quickly grasped the validation that Jackson meant for her to sit there. So, Jo did, to lead the meeting as promised.

As expected, meeting people and discussing with them face to face proved to be more fruitful than their previous attempts. Jo was at liberty to point to the projected sections, to stop for questions, and amidst of everything, to steal concealed glances at Jackson. She felt on all occasions that he was waiting to be seen, and that his eyes never left her physique. Even if, ultimately, it did fuel Jo’s confidence, she found herself oftentimes on the edge of fracturing her persona.

Jo checked her watch to confirm how much time had passed since they had started. Luckily, everything was right on schedule. “Alright everyone, if we don’t have any more questions, let’s take a well-deserved 30-minute break as scheduled. We’ll be back to wrap up the last 30 minutes and then have lunch!”

Said and done. As everyone was preparing to leave the meeting room for various refreshing activities, Jo finally took a seat after a one hour and a half continuous movement to reply to her other clients’ emails. Only when she sat down did she realize her feet had already started hurting. Jackson lagged behind for a moment, to check on Jo.

“Are you okay?”

Jo hastily displayed a smile at his question, while waiting for her email application to open. “I’m okay, thank you. I have some stuff to do in between.”

Jackson nodded his head. “I’ll leave you to it then. But please give yourself a break too, okay?”

Jo didn’t reply and did not notice when Jackson left the room. She offered her full attention to evaluating a parallel business case that she had been developing for a while, and, fortunately for her, there were not too many changes to be done based on her client’s feedback. She after passed her completed piece to her team, then checked the time once more. Jo still had 15 minutes to kill, and she took her bag to go on an adjacent terrace and breathe some fresh air. The sudden contact with the natural light source had her squint her eyes to adjust to the bright autumnal sun, and she leaned against the protective metal bar. Jo inhaled sharply; her lungs inflated with the crisp midday Shanghai air. She searched her bag for the object she already had with her, which kept her tied to her roots and to her ambitions. Her mind was racing with managerial and organizational thoughts.

A gentle breeze carried Jackson’s voice through the air.

“I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah, I am. I was just thinking that I’ll have to plan a bonus proposal for my team. I won’t lie, I got a bit too carried away by closing this contract with you and your people, and I made mine work overtime as a result. I have to give something back.”

Jo was twisting the sealed pack of slim cigarettes with her fingers, eyes still fixed on the miniature view of the distant skyscrapers. Jackson leaned against the metal bar to her left. She caught with the corner of her eye that his focus dropped to the cigarette pack.

“Do you smoke?”

Jo shook her head lightly. “Not anymore.”

Jackson nodded. His focus shifted silently to the faraway view of the buildings.

“I gave it up two years ago,” Jo began, halting her finger movements. “I had this 18-hour workday in which I didn’t get the chance to light up any of these things. So, I said to myself oh, maybe I can go on without them. If I cannot keep myself away from harmful things, how do I know I won’t take harmful decisions for my future?”

Jackson visibly twisted toward Jo. She continued.

“It was the year we hit 1 million dollars in turnover. That’s when I learnt how to take it and multiply it in investments and trust of my investors. We’re worth a lot more now.”

Jo showed the pack of cigarettes to Jackson. He noticed the sigil was still on.

“This keeps me grounded.”

“That’s very impressive,” Jackson appreciated. “Are you the one who is running both the numbers and the strategy?”

“Yes, I am. For now, at least.” Jo chuckled. “I am hoping my sister could take the accounting off me soon.”

“Sister?” Jackson asked curiously. “You never mentioned it.”

“Ah, well, I don’t get to talk much to her about anything these days. She is starting her senior year in entrepreneurship and accounting at Stanford this autumn.”

“Wow, seems like a family tradition to go to Stanford. I bet she is extremely intelligent.”

“Oh yeah.” Jo laughed and turned her body to lean her back against the metal bar. “She’s sharper than me, even more of a perfectionist. I don’t want to force her to take up this business, but I would love it if she would like to voluntarily join me.”

Jackson mirrored Jo’s body actions and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s a lot of fun to do it with a brother. Crazy and dramatic sometimes, but fun anyway.”

“I can imagine. I lost count of the times we wanted to rip each other’s hair off, but I do trust her guts and skills more than anything. I am jealous, though. She was the spoiled child between us two.”

Jackson picked up a melancholic undertone in Jo’s voice. He remembered the words she said to him at Mark’s birthday party.

Just because I carry it well, doesn’t mean it’s not heavy.

“You don’t have to carry it alone anymore, Jo.”

Jo shrugged her shoulders, without looking at Jackson. She would never dare fathom the possibility that he might have not spoken about her sister. She was not wired that way anyhow.

“I won’t push my burdens on anyone. If she wants to lend a hand, fine, otherwise, I can do it by myself. I always have.”

Perhaps the conversation would have continued if Jackson’s team hadn’t come to the terrace to ask if they were ready to resume the meeting. Jo peeled herself off the balustrade and missed Jackson’s hand trailing after her. Or maybe she refused to, scared that she would surrender to the fantasy of reaching for a red string to tie the two of them. Being vulnerable in front of him. “Let’s go inside, it’s tacky to keep the others waiting.”

The last part of the meeting proceeded as scheduled, with greater success than Jo had hoped for. Her leading the meeting proved beneficial and rewarding, and the conclusions were more than satisfactory. Jo established a strategy with Team Wang that everyone looked eager to follow, and she took it upon herself to plan their next in-person workshop.

“Right, thank you everyone for being here!” Jackson clapped his hands as incentive, and it did not take long for the others to do the same. “Jo deserves a round of applause for leading today as masterfully as she did.”

A modest smirk was painted on Jo’s features, and she dipped her head in a bow. Jackson resumed his speech.

“We’re done 10 minutes early, so let’s give our lunch the chance to arrive. We’ll meet you guys in the closed lobby area for the food. Feel free to run out and see you soon!”

Jackson approached Jo in between the tumult. “The lobby area is straight ahead, to the other side of the corridor. I’ll go downstairs to check with the reception if the food delivery is all good, and I’ll join you right away.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go to the ladies’ room for a refresher, and I’ll wait for you there.”

Jo was the last to leave the room with all the things she had to pack in her bag, and she was the first one to arrive in the designated room. The door opened to the lateral part of the room and the first thing a person would notice inside would be a black couch filling one width of the space. On top of it, there was an abandoned acoustic guitar which Jo immediately inspected. She took a seat on the couch and picked up the guitar to check the tuning keys.

“Are you tuned, my little friend?”

It was. Jo’s hands were uncertain for a short while, but after mumbling a what the hell under her breath, she decided to give in to her instincts. There was a song that instantly came to her mind that she knew to play and sing, called ay amor.

The first chords were hesitant, but Jo quickly eased into it.

Qué rara la paciencia que te grita—

It was inevitable that the unexpected guitar melody would attract everyone’s attention; even more unexpected was Jo’s voice that triumphantly conquered the guitar music, and Jackson, who was the first to realize, kept his index stuck to his lips to protect the outside calm.

Por la que no te deja usar las teclas / Del piano del salón

Jackson was continuously shaking his head with small, controlled movements. He could not find good enough words to describe the intensity and beauty of Jo’s voice, so he refrained from doing so instead.

Ay, amor, amor / Qué rara la Inocencia / Que critican

In the softest of breaths and the most silent of voices, Jackson spoke quietly. “I think I’m in love, man.”

Hay amor.

As Jo’s fingers drew the last harmonies and the music died down, a roaring round of applause broke out and startled Jo. Her eyes enlarged considerably and she almost dropped the guitar from her lap under the wave of unforeseen surprise that followed.

“I’m sorry, I saw this beauty lying around and thought I’d try out some chords.”

“What are you even talking about SORRY?” Jackson spoke as if Jo had just offended him personally, his voice growing in volume with each word. “Did you even hear yourself? And in Spanish?!”

“Well, yeah. I haven’t done this in a while though, so I might have sounded weird.”

“I don’t want to argue with you now as food is coming, but I am extremely prepared to counter any of your whatever because this was perfect!”

A playlist of Jackson’s released songs started playing through the speakers, and the room started crowding with an influx of new people coming inside. If there was anything Jackson was certified in, that was impromptu parties. Jo seized the opportunity to fill a plate with various aperitifs and evade back to the couch where she had played her song earlier. She was well aware that there was no way to escape Jackson’s inquiries about her impromptu show. Jo braced herself when she spotted Jackson in the crowd, rushing to reach her spot. And she was not sure she minded.

“That was absolutely amazing, out of this world!” he complimented, munching on a small piece of quiche. “Why would you keep quiet about your voice?!”

Jo chuckled and served a bruschetta. She appreciated the international cuisine choice must have been for her. “There are still many things you have yet to discover about me. I have graduated with a minor in musical theatre, and I was the lead actress in the theatre squad for two years.”

“Oh my God.” Jackson covered his mouth and simulated a polite bow with his entire body. “You are a goddess.”

“Stop it!” Jo swatted his lower arm, albeit giggling at his demeanor.

“And that was Spanish, right? That was clean as fuck.”

“Oh yeah, I’m half Spanish.”

Jackson wanted to repeat the previous action, but Jo stopped him by pushing his shoulder.

“Leave me alone!” Jackson protested and put his plate to the side. “There are no ways for me to describe the woman that you are. I have so many things I want to talk to you about and you keep on adding to the list, and trust me Jo, I can’t fucking keep up!”

Jo laughed and indulged in another prosciutto bruschetta. She would never admit it, of course, but she adored Jackson’s compliments.  “This stuff is so good.”

A hearty laughter left Jackson’s laughter, and his eyes reflected mocked betrayal. “Don’t change the subject on me, Jo.”

“Look, I share the sentiment. I do want to talk to you about so many things, but I don’t think this is the right setting to do so.”

Jo approached Jackson on the couch and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “I read your letter. A couple of times, if I’m honest.” When she tried to pull away, Jackson grabbed her hidden hand behind their bodies on the surface of the leathered cushion. He covered his mouth with the other one, shielding his words from the public.

“I want to spend all of the time we have here in your presence, and I will be selfish enough to hope you will allow me to be close to you.”

Jackson knitted his fingers through hers. Jo was thankful her hair was straightened and loose, to hide the brief fissure in her composure.

“I like it that you’re stubborn. Makes it all the more rewarding to discover you.”

Jackson distanced his body from Jo’s, but his fingers lingered in the warmth of her palm. She looked up at him. Jo felt like he deliberately chose to let her feel the tenderness of his words through his eyes. The raw intensity of that glimmer alerted her heart to pick the pace, and her teeth to delicately bite into the plush of her lower lip.

Jackson’s eyes fell brazenly on her lips, in synchronous tandem with her delicious deed, and Jo was convinced he meant for her to watch his shameless movements. She was not sure what to make of his behavior; he could not be naïve enough to believe that their repeated closeness would pass unnoticed, so the only explanation she could find was that Jackson simply ditched the surveillance of the surrounding public to do whatever he pleased.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Jo whispered, changing the spoken language to Korean once again, and trying to detach herself from his proximity.

 Jackson looked rather contented with his actions. He challenged Jo. “Why?”

“Here’s another tip about me. I’m quite greedy and I hate keeping away from things I want to claim.”

“Being greedy is not necessarily a bad thing.” Jackson flipped her hand to give it a squeeze and run circles into her palm. “Depends on what you want to do with it.”

Maybe it was his objective from the get-go, or maybe Jo happened to fall into his trap, but whatever Jackson was doing was successful.

“May I remind you, Jackson, that you are the one who keeps on refusing me when I want to be greedy and rip your clothes off?”

Jackson noticed his brother approaching and let go of Jo’s hand and break the built-up tension. She cleared her throat to regain serenity and greet the other.

“Great presentation today, Jo! Could you excuse me and Jackson for a bit? I need to steal him.”

“Thank you, Henry, I am glad to hear that it was useful. No worries, I will tend to my food and replenish my forces.”

“I’ll be right there, brother.”

Henry dipped his head to salute Jo and walked away. Jackson turned to Jo; he did not find her hand in its previous spot.

“Do you want to continue this conversation at home?”

Jo grabbed her plate, nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders. Or at least, as much as she could muster to. “Yeah, sure.”

The second part of the day found Jo and Jackson split from one another. While Jackson still had many responsibilities to tend to in the Team Wang headquarters, Jo accepted the privacy to attend to some of her other duties in advance. When Jackson came to pick her up from his secluded office, circles had appeared under her irritated eyes, from the mascara she was wearing.

The trip to Jackson’s apartment was quiet and shared in silence between them two. Jackson took his car and offered to drive them home, partly to shelter Jo from any stranger encounters, and partly to give them a breather from the long day. He was happy to do so; Jo fell asleep in the passenger seat soon after they left. Jackson was heartbroken to wake her up when they arrived.

“Hey, beautiful. We’re here.”

Jo groaned softly and unbuckled her seatbelt. Jackson grabbed all their luggage from the trunk and offered his hand to help her straighten her body. Jo accepted it and sensed that a headache could settle in at any moment.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I fell asleep.”

“Shh, it’s good you got a nap. Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

Jackson unlocked the door and stepped in first to rid himself of the baggage as soon as possible. He knelt down to undo Jo’s sandals, too fast for her to protest. Her feet were visibly swollen.

“I know what you want to do, but don’t.” Jo advised with a chuckle and cupped his cheek to make him look up. “Possibly after I take a shower.”

Jackson smiled and stood up. “Fine. But please don’t pretend we never talked about it.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can go first if you want. I want to cook dinner.”

Jackson protested. “Jo, it’s been a long day. You don’t have to.”

Jo waved him away with a flick of her wrist, on her way to the bathroom wash her hands. “There’s a big piece of steak and some asparagus in the fridge that I don’t want to throw away. I’ll be faster than your shower time!”

Seeing as he had no means to win, Jackson complied with her shenanigans. He took some loose clothes from the bedroom and headed to the shower. Jo wiped her phone with a sterile solution and then connected it to the audio system in the living room. The fastest album within reach was Got7’s earlier album release in the year, so she let it play in the background.

“You don’t have to kiss my ass!” Jackson shouted from the shower and had Jo laughing out loud.

“Whatever!” she shouted back and started preparing their dinner. Jo took out the grill pan she had bought the day before and brushed its surface with butter. She placed it on the stove to warm it up and then took a cutting board to season the steak with coarse salt and pepper. She also bought rosemary and what she considered basic herbs to have in the house, along with a suitable variety to make tea with.

When the butter started sizzling, Jo placed the meat into the pan, turning the flame to a minimum. After a few minutes, she grabbed the wooden clamps to flip the meat. The sound of the bathroom door mingled with the background music and Jackson joined Jo in the kitchen in a casual set of home clothes and a towel draped on his head. He approached the stove curiously, savoring the aroma in the air.

“My mouth is flooded.”

Jo chuckled. She added the rosemary to the meat and the asparagus on the side. “That’s a good sign.”

“How can I help?”

“Ah, maybe you could set the table? It won’t take longer than a couple of minutes.”

Jackson took two plates from the cabinet, two forks, and two tall glasses to put on the table. “I have some red wine in the cabinet, would you like to have some?”

“I saw yesterday that you have a good collection, and it was very hard not to open one by myself.”

Jackson chuckled and grabbed a bottle of pinot noir. “You should have helped yourself.”

Jo prepared the cutting board to take out the steak. “That would have been rude, to start looking through your things.”

The music faded momentarily in three short phases to signal that someone had sent Jo a couple of messages. “Could you see who it was, please? Maybe it’s mom. I asked her something earlier today.”

Jackson looked confused. “This would be rude, to start going through your messages.”

“Touche. But I have nothing to hide, so please, go through my messages.”

Jackson obeyed and approached the living room area to pick up Jo’s phone. He lit up the screen to read the messages in her notification’s panel. One eyebrow rose in bewilderment, and Jackson didn’t read them right away.

“Well?” Jo chimed in from the kitchen. “Hurry up, steak is no good cold!”

[rammax]I told you that you shouldn’t have given up acting with me

[rammax] our little gig just got viral in Korea

[rammax] it was a pleasure to perform with you, mami

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[write-it-good-imagines]

Every Rule Has An Exception - 3

Hello loves <3 I am extremely proud of myself for continuing this narrative. With all these ideas going through my head, it would have been a personal waste to keep it hidden. I just want to say one thing: you're not prepared!! Happy reading~

±5k words || romance || friendship || fluff || intrigue || jackson wang

Many years after its release, SATC had the unique opportunity to have a spin-off special filler episode, set in central Seoul, at a luxury Spa Center.

Or that was what people who had not watched SATC would say if they had seen Jo, Samantha, and Leena having pedicures while also enjoying an intricate facial spa procedure.

If that had been the pores’ heaven, Jo was surely in it. “I have absolutely no idea why we haven’t been friends for longer, Leena. You have the best ideas.”

“I don’t know, honestly,” Leena adjusted her body on the spa chair to choose the nail polish color for her pedicure. “Sam must have thought we would be too powerful of a duo.”

“Rightfully so!” Samantha chimed in, kindly gesturing to the spa assistant to fix the falling eye patches. “I would be scared for my life to leave the two of you unattended.”

“What’s the worst that could happen, Captain Misfit?” Jo laughed and picked a burgundy shade for her nails. “Both you and Leena are locked down into very serious relationships. I would say 85% of the men in the world have already lost their best chances.”

“So, the rest 15% is up for you to grab?”

“This depends on Jackson, dear, and on the plans he has for us.”

Leena shifted her position once again to look over at Jo. “I thought you started dating.”

Jo mirrored Leena’s action. “We’re not dating. We’re just getting to know each other. Slowly and scarcely.”

“The way I know you, you would’ve called dibs on him already.”

“Sam, I’m not on some quest for romance. I didn’t come all the way across the world to settle down.” Jo let out a sigh as the spa assistant massaged her feet. “Besides, I invite you to look up all the parties he’s going to on the internet. I’d say all those other girls are calling dibs on him.”

Samantha chuckled, and once her eye patches were taken away, she also shifted her body to face Jo. “Joanne Montgomery, do I smell jealousy here?”

Jo flinched at the mention of her name. A substantial amount of time had passed since someone had called her out on her full given name, and if she were to think about it, there was a major chance that Samantha was the last one to do so. No one in her business circle had met her as Joanne. She had always been Jo Montgomery in what Jo herself thought would be a good differentiation between her utmost intimacy and what she chose to show to the public.

“There’s no reason for me to be jealous, ladies. I am just stating the facts,” Jo put up a finger in the air, anticipating Samantha might tease her further on the topic. “If I had anything to be jealous about, I’d rather call it being protective of what is mine.”

“Well, you should have all the time to see one another, no?” Leena appreciated, allowing the spa worker to clean her cuticles. “Now that you’re business partners and all.”

“I am not really the one to mix up business and pleasure. I don’t have any good experience in all the situations I’ve tried to do so. It’s been three days already and the only Wang I have heard from was his team.”

“You can’t expect me to believe he hasn’t texted you these past three days.”

“Oh, he has. Mostly good mornings and good nights, which I do appreciate, before you crucify me. And I’m not absurd; I can imagine he’s busy. So am I. So that’s why all I’m saying is that it depends on him explicitly expressing his wishes.”

Samantha and Leena looked at one another and started laughing. Jo followed with a chuckle of her own. “Happy to know I’m funny. But I don’t think I’m wrong. We’re all grown-ups here, aren’t we?”

“You’re right. Partly,” Samantha commented and picked the same burgundy shade that Jo had chosen for her nails. “It’s also on you to explicitly express your wishes.”

“I think I did make it very clear I wanted to have sex with him when he turned me down. Twice.”

Luckily, the three women were carrying their conversation in English. Jo could only hope the Spa Resort had a client-attorney kind of privilege.

“Now you’re exaggerating. Maybe he really wants to make it special for you guys.”

“Leena, whose side are you on?”

Leena drew an invisible zipper over her lips. “No comment. I have done both in my lifetime and both can work if the situation is appropriate.”

“Jo, come on. You’re never straightforward when it comes to men.”

Jo scoffed. She turned her attention to her freshly painted nails and then put her hand in the UV lamp. “But I am! I have always made my intentions very clear.”

“Sure, to only run away when a possible relationship came into the picture.”

Jo was prepared to protest Samantha’s previous affirmations when her phone lit up and started vibrating. Siri’s robotic voice blended with the Spa music: Jackson is calling.

“How is it that the Universe always agrees with me?”

Jo took her hand out of the UV lamp to pick up the phone, opting to just roll her eyes at Samantha’s remark. “Hello, Jackson, how are you?”

There was a loud background noise on the other end of the line, similar to a buzzing crowd. Someone in the far distance must have announced something along the lines of filming resumes in 5.

“Hi, Jo! I’m shooting a podcast with Eric, and we got a little break. Is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all. I’m at a spa with Sam and Leena enjoying girls’ quality time.”

“Okay, I’m jealous now.” Jackson laughed and caused Jo to giggle. She ignored Samantha’s blatant I-told-you-so look. “I wanted to see if you’re well. I’m sorry I keep on disappearing when we’re texting; there’s always something else to be done.”

Jo switched the phone to her other hand to have the rest of her nails done. If she did not know any better, she would say that Samantha was very eager to see where the conversation was going.

“You don’t have to apologize to me. You picked yourself someone who truly understands the situation.” Jo turned to Samantha, facing her directly. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you. I keep thinking about you.”

There was a small pause on the other end of the line. Perhaps it was not what Jackson had expected to hear from Jo. “I keep thinking about you, too, Jo. You’re all I think about in between all these things.”

It was Jo’s turn to pause. She smiled at Jackson’s words who caught her with her guard down. Another quick announcement that filming would resume cut off the static silence.

“Listen, I’m flying out to Europe tonight for a fashion show. I would like to see you before I go, but I would hate to wake you up in the middle of the night.”

A spa attendant asked Jo if she’d like to add a top coating over her nails while another had her shift her position to apply the last layer of the facial masks, and she missed most of Jackson’s question. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll be home, so give me a call when you want me to come out.”

“Great! Okay, I’ll see you tonight then! I have to go now, so I’ll leave you enjoy the rest of the spa session. See you, Jo.”

Shortly after Jo’s conversation with Jackson, the spa session had come to an end, much to the girl’s dismay. Jo was thrilled with the overall results. With her bold nails and rejuvenated skin, she felt as if she could do anything. So, as any other woman who had postponed too many of her chores, Jo went shopping to stock her fridge and buy a handful of medicinal herbs she had been planning to use for various health purposes. She decided to use the bus for her trip back home, hoping to get some warmup exercise for the run she planned to go on at dawn. The evening went by fast, texting the girls to plan a recurrent series of meetups and gossip like the old times. In that unplanned positive outcome, Jo felt like she had taken the right decision not to pass up the opportunity to move overseas and reset her life, even for a short amount of time. The sheer fact that she could reconnect with a precious old-time friend and meet new people who felt right for her soul was reason enough to put all her regrets behind.

Jo did her nightly routine peacefully. Her mind was not rushing to the next task to tackle, nor to the next people to approach. She was happy with her new manicure, happy with the house Samantha helped her rent, happy with the new opportunities her own tapestry of fate decided to play for her. As she curled strand by strand of hair to her heatless curler, her mind skipped to her memories of Jackson. It was not untrue what she had told the girls; Jo was not fantasizing of finding romance so far from home, and she could never imagine she could find it with Jackson. Sure, Jo was attracted to him, and he seemed to be a carbon copy of her ideal type, but Jackson was just an illusion to her.

“Is he?” Jo mumbled to herself as she tied the curler, biting her lips. The same lips that did kiss Jackson a few days prior.

Jo turned down the lights in her home and went straight to bed, setting an early alarm for her conquest of getting back into running. She fell into a deep sleep, thanks to the peaceful moments she spent with herself, so much so that she nearly did not hear the fervent vibrations of her phone. Jo instinctively reached for the phone and part of her brain tricked her into thinking it was still a dream.

“Hey, Jo,” a masculine, breathy voice broke the silence, “I’m here.”

Jo groaned, still under the impression of a nightly fantasy. She groaned, her own voice sounding lowly and coarse in her ears. “Here, where? Who am I talking to.”

A halt in the other’s speech almost had Jo turn to the other side of the bed, ready to go back to her slumber.

“…it’s Jackson, Jo. We talked today when you were at the spa, remember?”

Jo’s eyes opened widely. Spa? Jackson?

He was outside of her house. As promised.

“Should I go? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

“No, no.” the woman rushed to reply, drowsily getting out of bed. “I’m coming.”

Jo grabbed her satin robe to cover her bare arms and thighs and tried to tie it hurriedly. Had she been more awake, she probably would have realized that the white negligee she was wearing was obscenely transparent. Jo grabbed a thermos from the kitchen on the way to the door and almost hit her pinky into the door as she was opening it.

Jackson was fidgeting from one leg to the other a couple of paces away from Jo’s door. The door cracking open had him turning, and he had to fight against his own mouth to keep it closed. Jo was rubbing at her groggy eyes, a single strand of hair falling from the intricate design she had on her head. The skin on her legs instantly transformed to gooseflesh at the contact with the crisp night air. To say he was fascinated was a vulgar understatement.

“Hey.” Jo breathed, and her voice was an octave lower than usual. Quite an erotic sound to make, if one had asked Jackson. She stopped right in front of him and looked up at him, yet with her eyes half closed. Glowing skin, plump lips, and a suave voice, all put together such a raw, yet intense show of femininity that Jackson could not remember ever seeing before.

Jackson rose his hand in a hypnotized movement to touch her cheek. He hesitated and cleared his throat. “Are you real?”

“Flesh and bones, Jackson.” Jo replied and mustered a smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be pushy. I was not expecting to see you here.”

“I did warn you I was going to come see you.”

“Yeah, you did. There was a lot of noise in the spa, and I don’t think I heard everything you said.”

Jo noticed his hand and she placed hers on top to guide it to her face. As soon as she nestled into the warmth of his hand, Jackson realized she was as real as he’d liked her to be.

“How are you, Jackson? Are you well?” Jo asked softly, still wearing the small smile on her lips. “Everything good?”

“I’m good, Jo. I’m good.” Jackson smiled right back at her, caressing her skin with the thumb. “Truth be told, I’m a bit tired. But I’m good.”

Jo handed Jackson the tall thermos. He studied it curiously.

“It’s a tea mix I made. Rosehip, marigold, and chamomile. It’s very good for your skin, digestive and immune system.”

How many times more that woman would impress Jackson was certainly not something that he wished to see the end of, “Wow. How do you know all this?”

Jo replied naturally as if it was common knowledge. “My mother knows a lot about herbs and about how nature can heal us. I made this for myself to take on my run tomorrow, but I figured you’d need it a bit more than I do. At this point, I’m not sure I’ll even go running.”

She pushed the thermos towards Jackson with as much conviction as she could muster. “Please don’t fight with me and just take it. Try to have some sleep on the plane and drink it when you wake up, okay? Works better on an empty stomach after resting.”

“Jo, I– thank you. I’m sure you can do it. Little steps, and you’ll crush it in no time. Running, I mean.”

Jo chuckled. “I hope so. That’s the plan anyway. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Jackson nodded his head. The sound of a car horn interrupted the intimacy between the two. Much to Jackson’s disappointment, Jo retreated from his touch.

“I guess that’s your cue to go.”

“Not yet,” he spoke and fixed his hat. “How are you, Jo? Do you need anything?”

“Hmm,” Jo folded her arms over her chest. “Your signature on the contract, maybe? I’d prefer to start working on a timeline tomorrow.”

Jackson laughed and agreed. “I’ll do it on the plane and send it over. But are you okay, can I help you with anything?”

Jo was forcing her brain not to turn on at its full capacity. She knew if it did, she would go back to being her cynical, detached persona. Jackson was more tangible in her half-awake part of the world, where she did not have to be the independent woman she’d honed herself to be. The fog on her eyes had to disappear for her to notice the tiny crescents under his eyes and the unshaved skin.

“I’d rather you took care of yourself better, Jackson.” She exhaled and unbeknownst to her, a nostalgic glimmer played with her irises. “I know we’ve known each other just about two seconds, but I can take care of myself. It’s okay to make me worry about you but there’s too little I can do when you’re this far away.”

Jackson’s eyes sparkled with an emotion he was unable to define. Jo’s words were candid and conveyed a strikingly straightforward message. A genuine woman exuding an authentic sense of self in all the ways she carried herself. Jo placed her index finger over his lips just as he prepared to speak and caused the breath in his lungs to hitch.

“Strong people need to cut themselves some slack sometimes.”

Jo could not determine whether she was speaking to Jackson, or to her own self. She did not have enough time anyway.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Jacks–no, my breath must really smell, and I can’t let you–”

Jackson attached his lips to hers to effectively shut her up. Jo had an impulse to pull away, but the nature of his kiss prevented her from doing so. A different sentiment was carried through this kiss as opposed to the carnal one they shared on the exact identical porch. Needy, peaceful, akin to a testament of romantic gratitude. A kiss that sent a tingling sensation through Jo’s knees.

She was not used to being kissed like that.

Another prolonged toot reiterated the urgency of life to happen, and Jackson lingered a moment before definitely pulling away. Jo caught herself inhaling abruptly.

“Unfortunately, this is my cue to go.” a bittersweet smile formed on his lips. Jo watched his movements with an uncovered warmth in her cheeks.

“Seems like it. Please go, or I might take you prisoner in this house.”

“Why?” Jackson chuckled and draped his arms around her frame. Jo leaned into him, the scent of Armani intoxicating her lungs. And her memories.

She sighed and clung onto his shirt. Her heart beating faster must have been payback for keeping her brain shut. “I wish you could’ve tugged me back to sleep.”

Jackson hugged her tighter. He could feel her silky skin through the thin, woven fabric of her night attire. Jackson could swear the muscles of her back tightened with sincere regret when she spoke. He wondered how those muscles felt when she had everything she wished for in the world. “Next time, I promise.”

Life resumed its normal course in the two weeks that followed Jackson’s departure. Jo returned to managing her day-to-day business using the same formula she had always known. Some days tougher, and some days slower, Jo focused on getting back in her groove. She picked up running, increasing the targeted distance little by little, morning after morning, in the only junctures of the day when she could free up her mind.

I’m sure you can do it. Little steps, and you’ll crush it in no time.

The only junctures of the day she thought she would free up her mind were filled with thoughts of Jackson. That was uncharacteristic of Jo, to think of someone else so often, unable to escape the haunting feeling of that kiss. Men were, more often than not, a means to an end for Jo. Too often distractions, too often looking to outpace her in her life, Jo decided to separate from all those binding feelings. Try as she might, she couldn’t bury the tingle Jackson sent through her body that night. And she knew what people said; that those butterflies are the body’s warning against bad omen signs.

Why was it that her body had felt the safest it had ever been in the longest time?

Jo picked up the tempo. She had passed the previous checkpoint minutes before, but she was too distracted to notice, and her smartwatch vibrated as she completed another kilometer. Could she allow herself to get high on those insufficient crumbs? When all their latest conversations had been quick check-ups, business meetings, and ambiguous pleasantries? Was she just a hypocrite if that was the exact lifestyle she had chosen to lead, and she treated everyone else just the same?

You never put in any effort to get close to someone, Jo. You’re acting like a spoiled brat right now.

Jo sprinted back toward the familiar running route and finally reached home, setting a new personal best for the day. She quickly prepared her breakfast before starting her tasks for the day. Jo’s agenda was filled with assignments related to the newest Team Wang project which were slowly becoming harder and harder to implement. There were ways to try and bypass the lack of face-to-face interactions, and Jo had always done those before: using a tablet to draw prototypes, using third-party tools to facilitate collaboration, using her best design skills to make prototypes. It was becoming clear that what Jackson wanted to build for his team was not something you could do from behind a laptop screen.

Jo reached out for her phone and instinctively called Jackson. She grabbed a pen to twist her curls in a messy bun and put the phone on speaker.

“What time is it in Europe right now?” Jo wondered and searched the time zone calibration on the Internet. The planet was telling her that her noon was Jackson’s indecent early morning. “Oh crap,” she had an immediate reaction to end the call, but Jackson was just a tad faster to pick up.

“Hi, Jo! What’s up?”

“Oh, you don’t sound like I’ve woken you up,” Jo stated, thankful that she was not the one to disturb his peace.

“I’ve been up for an hour, so don’t worry. I actually wanted to call you, too.”

Jo didn’t give much thought to his words. She was absorbed in the business aspects of their relationship, still. “Here’s to good morning, Jackson! I assume you have a minute to talk?”

“I have much more than a minute, actually. What’s up?”

The woman opened a series of documents on her desktop. “I have been working on breaking our project into smaller pieces for the past couple of days. You probably already know that I had some meetings with your team in which we struggled a bit to convey all the information that we wanted to share. I don’t think we’ll be too successful with this format.”

“Yeah, so I’ve been told. What do you suggest we should do?”

Jo sighed. What she was about to propose was extremely difficult to implement. “It would make a lot of sense for us to be in the same room at the same time. To use a larger screen for presentations and for me to point to each step of the process, stop for questions. I want to be able to see everyone’s faces when I speak so that I know when something’s not clicking right.”

Jackson sighed too. And then he laughed.

“I’d laugh too if I wasn’t serious. It’s stupid if you think about it in hindsight. Although I recommend sitting down with all your core team, having you at least would be a good start.”

“But how do you connect with your team? Don’t you have the same issue with them?”

“Not really. You can imagine I’ve done this with them countless of times before. They know what they must do by heart at this point. My main responsibility now is about you and Team Wang.”

Jackson was silent for a while. Jo figured he would need some space to make a proposal of his own, so she patiently gave him the space.

“What if I fly you out to China?”

Jo hesitated to reply. Her commitment to the cosmetics company was solid and on-going, and, despite her negotiating to keep her in-person meetings to a decent minimum, she had to honor her engagement with those people. Following the same grounds of her proposal to Jackson a few moments back.

On the other hand, the prospect of seeing Jackson more frequently was truly tempting.

“I have a lot of Asia schedules in the following weeks and a big part of them are in China. If your schedule doesn’t allow you to come here, I’ll fly to you regardless. I’ll make it work somehow.”

What were the chances that Jackson was considering the same prospect?

“Let me see what my calendar looks like,” Jo spoke and grabbed her agenda. “So, Thursday I have to make it to an in-person which should last to 1PM. Probably I can make it in time for a 4PM flight, and I’ll have to be back in Seoul on Sunday.”

“I really want you to be comfortable with this decision, Jo. I don’t want you to force yourself.”

Jo laughed and was well on her way to move all Thursday afternoon’s meetings. “You’re not asking and I’m informing you. I do hope you know that the flight and the hotel fall under the unforeseen expenses clause of our contract.”

A sudden static silence had Jo think that the call had cut off. Jackson’s joyous laughter proved otherwise. “My legal team didn’t complain, and I didn’t even read that part, so I am leaning on good faith here that you won’t scam us.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jo replied cheerfully. “Good faith can only get you so far, huh?”

“We can always cut hotel costs if you stay at my house.”

An eyebrow immediately arched at Jackson’s indirectly blunt proposal. Jo decided there was no harm in playing along. “Were you looking for roommates? I leave my panties lying around sometimes.”

Jackson must have choked on something. “If I wanted a roommate, I’d ask Eric again.”

Just so that he could ignore the last part of the question. “Then, what could I possibly do at your house if you don’t want a roommate, Jackson?”

“You won’t be pleased if I just say it’s cheaper for me, will you?”

“I won’t be pleased with you if you’re not telling the truth. I thought building trust is important when getting to know someone.”

Jackson exhaled. “Look, I’m happy that you’re flying over. Truly. I want to spend time with you outside of all this work, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. I just want to be in your presence. I’ll sleep on the couch and all that—”

“Hey,” Jo interrupted him in the gentlest of breaths and was fortunate she had not called him on video. He would have caught the tender expression on her face. “Thank you for telling me that, I appreciate it. You’re the only reason I accepted to do this.”

“I don’t know what to say, Jo.”

“Are you happy that I chose to do this?”

“Of course. Of course I am happy.”

Jackson did not hesitate with his response. Then Jo had no legitimate reasoning to hesitate either. “Then a thank you is more than enough. Hey, I have to go. I’m meeting Sam at the hospital for lunch with her, Johnny and Leena.”

“No, sure. I’ll take care of the flight and everything else. I will fly in on Friday morning, so I’ll have someone pick you up and give you the keys to my house.”

“Keys to your house? Jackson, you’ve known me 2 seconds, how can you trust someone to stay all alone in your house?”

“I don’t trust someone. I trust you. That’s enough.”

Jo took out her phone to pay for her food order. All the dishes looked exceptionally good for a hospital restaurant, which Samantha later clarified was, in fact, one of the better-rated restaurants in Seoul’s hierarchy. Jo gladly received an avocado Caesar salad and accompanied Samantha to the table where Jonathan and Leena were waiting.

“I never dreamt of the day where you would get to have an exclusive look at the coochie, Sam,” Jo whispered before taking a seat and Samantha’s contorted face gave Jonathan a reason to raise his eyebrow.

“I can always send you to anyone else if this is not convenient.”

“You’ve just reunited, and you’re back at it with all the shenanigans?” Jonathan commented as he stirred the croutons in his soup.

“I am very disappointed in your words actually, Johnny. And even more disappointing that you are so unbothered by it.”

Leena laughed. “Oh Jo, you have no idea how many things he had to go through these past two months. I’m willing to bet he developed some kind of resistance.”

Jonathan nodded his head with an annoyingly entitled expression on his face.

“There’s something that would be hilarious if it happened,” Samantha chuckled and took the first bite of her burger.

Jonathan displayed a menacing look but did not allow Jo to inquire about the situation because the proof unveiled itself sooner rather than later.

“This Stanford party happening at this very moment without me makes no sense.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do about your lunch, Henry?”

“Not really.”

Jo’s eyes examined Henry’s silhouette as he pulled the chair to seat at their table. He hadn’t changed much since the Stanford days; still smug, still wearing a charismatic smile. Perhaps he let his hair grow longer. Jo could not help but judge his appearance, having known about his situation with Samantha.

“How long have you been in town, Jo?” Henry asked, ignoring Jonathan’s insistent glares.

“Almost a month now I think.”

“You can see that Jo was not interested in meeting you too soon, Henry.” Leena quirked an eyebrow as she tended to her pie.

“Ah, I managed with your passive aggressiveness, what is one more added to the collection?”

“Basking in misery is not exactly a compliment, Henry.” Jonathan remarked.

“Whatever. I saw you from afar, and I thought I could come say hi. And, to share a very juicy gossip with you, since a Stanford reunion seems to be taking place these days in Seoul.”

“Yeah?” Jo asked, giving in to Henry’s game. “What’s the tea?”

“I will give you all three chances to guess who’s just been admitted in ortho for a bad ankle twist. You already got one major hint.”

“You don’t suppose we’ll just start naming hundreds of names, Henry.” Samantha chuckled but she was visibly intrigued by the other man’s behavior, nonetheless.

“You’re killing the fun! Fine, I’ll just say it. I think Jo is particularly familiar with Max.”

Jo virtually choked on the water she was drinking. Both Samantha and Jonathan could not control their eyes from widening, leaving poor Leena confused by a backstory she did not know.

“Thought as much,” Henry snickered and took a bite of his prosciutto sandwich. “Funny thing is that he thought he saw Sam on one of the hospital corridors and he invited us for a drink.”

“There’s absolutely no way we are pulling a Grey’s Anatomy right now.” Jonathan fully turned his body toward Henry’s direction, which remarkably pleased the latter.

“I mean, I couldn’t tell you how he would react if he found out that the girlfriend he never broke up with is in Seoul. At the same time, he is in Seoul.”

Leena brought a hand to her mouth to cover the outright shock on her face.

“My head hurts.” Samantha declared, albeit with a snort. She fixated Jo with her eyes. “Did you genuinely not break up with him and you just seened him to oblivion?”

Jo put her own hands up defensively. Out of all places in the world, was it humanly possible to comprehend that a former boyfriend, and lead co-star in college, would happen to break his ankle in the same hospital 3 of her former colleagues and friends were working at? Pretty wild, all things considered. “Look, I never said I was proud of all the things I’ve done in my life.”

On the other side of the table, Jonathan was dying of laughter. “I say all of us should go out just for the hell of it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

[write-it-good-imagines]

Every Rule Has An Exception - 2

Hello cuties! Happy belated birthday to King Jackson! So, maybe you remember I posted another Every Rule Has An Exception piece? I thought I'd follow up on it and, who knows, gradually turn it into a series? For now, I'll let you enjoy this snippet of mine <3

±5k words, romance, fluff , jackson

“Okay, sounds good. We’ll keep in touch! Bye, bye!”

Jo let out a groan, returning to her usual speaking voice. She locked her laptop to sit up and stretch her body, the chilly air of the late morning breezing through the open window. Her 8AM meeting lasted for an hour and a half, and her stomach was begging for its delayed breakfast. Jo had not had the chance to grab groceries since she’d settled in Seoul, and she opted to order a Korean-specific, nourishing meal to fuel up.

Surprisingly, Jo did not feel as tired as she had expected to be, after Mark’s birthday party. Sure, the soreness in her feet was still there from the day before, yet the energy was up, despite sleeping a little more than 4 hours. She picked up her phone to call Samantha and thank her for the invitation. The event was a great success, and Jo had a very good time.

Partly, the success was owned to Jackson. Mostly, Jackson.

“Hey, girl! I wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”

Samantha giggled on Jo’s screen and untied the medical bonnet on her head. “Morning, my favorite businesswoman! I shouldn’t have, but I finished my surgery early. Everything went well, so no major surprises. How are you?”

Jo picked up the other’s cheerful tone. “Did you mean to ask how last night was?”

“You caught me red handed, didn’t you?”

“You’re an open book at this point, Sam.”

Jo seated herself back into the office chair, checking for unread emails. “We didn’t do anything. As a matter of fact, he never entered the house.”

“And you want me to believe you?”

Samantha’s unimpressed expression was an indicator that she did not, in fact, believe her friend.

“Go on, as Mark to talk to Jackson. We parted like two mature adults. I even gave his loafers back.”

Samantha was silent for a while. She grabbed her medical coat and headed to her office to have some privacy.

“But?”

“I’m supposed to meet him later today.” Jo turned her attention to her friend. “But hold your horses, it’s not a date. He said he looked up my firm and he wants to discuss a collaboration on a Team Wang initiative.”

“Thank you, Jackson, really. You didn’t have to bother to bring me home. I could have handled that myself.”

Jackson handed Jo her belongings, which he was very adamant to carry until they reached her house. “What kind of man would I be to leave a woman, again, to go home alone at night?”

Jo chuckled. She took out the keys from her purse. “I wouldn’t have seen you for less of a man if you did.” The door lock clicked. “Would you like to come inside? Luckily, it’s still tidy since I didn’t get to unpack everything.”

Jo wouldn’t have thought her question sounded like a sexual proposition of any sort. She wanted to be polite and repay Jackson’s kind gesture, in case he wanted to gather his breath for a moment or two. She couldn’t read Jackson’s reaction entirely.

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” he shook his hands in the air. “And I have to get back to the boys anyway.”

Jo pushed the door open to place her belongings on a nearby stool and hurriedly grabbed a pair of flip-flops. “Just a second, I’ll grab a bag for the shoes.”

“Please, you can keep them.”

Jo ignored his last response and grabbed a plastic bag lying around from one of her unpacking sessions. “If I want to invite you to my house again, I wouldn’t want it to be over a pair of lost loafers.”

Jackson laughed, although masking an amazed look. He was forced to accept.

“I mean, like you said, isn’t this as good a reason as any?”

Jackson shrugged his shoulders at Jo’s inquiry, keeping a bright smile on his lips. “I deserve that, I admit. I wanted to ask you something, actually.”

“Oh?” Jo folded her arms over the chest. She was, admittedly, intrigued.  “Sure, anything.”

“After we had dinner, you know, couple of days ago, I searched your company online. I took a look at your product and services and your vision aligns well with an initiative we’d like to do at Team Wang. So, I wanted to ask if you’d like to talk a bit about that.”

Out of all the possible questions he could have asked, that was not even on the list of what Jo expected. She was positively impressed, nonetheless.

“A partnership with us? Don’t mind me asking, but what piqued your interest in our activity?”

“Look, I’ll be honest, okay? You did, and I’m not saying this just because. The way you spoke about your firm, about your dreams and the sacrifices you had to make to achieve it, it just clicked with me.”

Jo was at a loss for words. It hadn’t happened in a while, to be dazzled by another person, even though, ironically, it seemed like she had known Jackson for a lifetime. She had to be reminded that the public lens was not a good means to judge anyone.

“And I hoped you’d hear me out. Maybe become partners.”

There was that little something that made Jo feel attracted to him. A chance to know Jackson for who he truly was.

“No kiss goodbye then?”

Jackson was bewildered. Jo laughed and continued.

“I am kidding, of course. I am happy to hear that feedback, and I would love to sit down with you. I have some time tomorrow evening if you’d like.”

“To hell with the professional businesswoman,” Samantha sighed. “I won’t pretend to know him too well, but I do hope you didn’t blow it.”

“Blow what? Sam, there’s not a tangible possibility of a something, even though I admit I like him. Who in their right mind doesn’t like Jackson? Let’s be honest, I am everywhere all the time, he’s everywhere all the time, the most promising prospect would be to have a one-night and fly out the next morning.”

“Again, I’m not pretending to know him; I’m just saying that some things you just feel. He looked like he could have eaten you out at any moment last night.”

Jo rolled her eyes. The doorbell ringing had her get up. “Firstly, who wouldn’t? Secondly, all the planet knows Jackson is touchy-flirty with everyone he meets. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”

Jackson thanked the coffee shop employee and grabbed his tall cappuccino on the way back to the table. Jinyoung was still silently laughing, and Mark couldn’t believe his ears.

“Man, she was flirting to your face! What else should she have done?”

“I don’t know man! It’s been a while since I had any romantic encounter.”

“I wouldn’t call that a romantic encounter,” Jinyoung said, still chuckling to himself. “That was a crumb you stepped on with your foot.”

“Jackson, I can’t recognize you! Out of all of us, you are the affectionate one. And you left with a bow?”

Jackson sighed and cupped his hands at his nape in an exasperated manner. “Please cut me some slack, would you? How was I supposed to know if she was joking or not?” he then swiftly leaned against the table, closer to the other men. “Let’s say I would’ve gone in to kiss her and she didn’t want to be kissed. How would I have redeemed myself? If ever?”

“So, you do like her,” Jinyoung taunted, taking the first sip of his matcha.

“Whenever did I say I don’t?!”

A heartfelt fit of laughter broke out in the coffee shop. Jackson would have liked it more if it wasn’t him in the center of attention.

“It’s true, I guess.” Mark shrugged his shoulders, “Now you know what I was going through when you two were lecturing me about Sam.”

“It was a slightly different situation, hyung,” Jinyoung commented and earned a playful glare from the other. “Jackson really has the whole highway to take off.”

“I wish I could pilot myself into her heart.”

Another fit of laughter.

“It’s just, you know, I’m never around, and I truly hate these situations. We have a good thing for a while, and then I’m flying out tomorrow.”

“You can’t keep using this excuse forever, Jackson,” Mark cut his speech off. “We’re all mature adults here with careers to take care of. Same for me and Sam, same for you and Jo.”

“Mark, you two are literally a couple.”

“And what stops you to not be a couple with Jo?!”

“Ah, hyung, but you know, they’re doing professional partnerships now. Is this what you call it nowadays?”

Jinyoung had a knack for adding gasoline to the fire. He was not apologetic for that.

Jackson breathed defeatedly. “Does it bring you joy to make fun of me?”

“You have absolutely no excuse. None. Zero. We knew from the very moment she walked backstage that you’d do anything to impress her. Good thing Bambam didn’t go in before you did.”

“Oh, true,” Jinyoung completed Mark, “I think Jaebum hyung saw the wink situation on stage, and he lost his cool altogether.”

Jackson’s coffee started getting cold. The more he spoke, the colder his mouth felt, too. In hindsight, there was nothing he could lose and everything he could gain.

“Okay, fine, you win. I’ll try to talk to her about, you know… something.”

Mark laughed. “Something, what? The professional partnership?”

Jo checked the time once again. Her last meeting of the evening had finished 20 minutes early which gave her still too little time to decide what to wear for the outing. She couldn’t have called it a meeting because she did not view Jackson as an empty business partner. She also couldn’t call it a date since Jackson’s intention was not to take her out on a date. So, outing seemed the be the most suitable word. And for the outing, Jo couldn’t dress up in a suit again. She also couldn’t be too careless about her appearance because she was meeting Jackson out in public. Then it hit her: what if he dressed more smartly than she expected?

Among all her clothing suitcases laying around in the house, she found a baggy-fit pair of jeans, a white CK tank top, and a black leather jacket to bring the outfit together. Her ebony loose hair was held together by a pair of Prada sunglasses on the top of her head, with a black Prada mini bag to finish the look. If her feet weren’t swollen, she would have chosen heels, but she was happy to resort to a white pair of loafers of her own.

Jo did not have to wait for too long in the bus station which was close to her house, and she arrived just in time to the restaurant where Jackson made the reservation. A chic boutique, with a cozy setup outside which exuded a bohemian aura. Jo admired the playful decorations hanging from the wooden frames before her eyes fell on Jackson’s seemingly nervous frame. He was holding a pink assortment of flowers in his hand.

Jackson noticed Jo walking from afar and met her halfway. They smiled at each other, and Jo felt invited to wrap her arms around his neck into a quick hug. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Jackson wrapped her frame with one arm, reciprocating the warmth of the hug

“Were you waiting long?” Jo asked, swaying cheerfully from side to side.

“Just got here! I’m happy I was the first to arrive, though.”

Jackson reluctantly broke the hug to offer Jo the small bouquet. She brought it closer to indulge in their fragrance. “Thank you so much! These are so pretty.”

He couldn’t hide the satisfaction on his face, not that he wanted it to be hidden. “It didn’t make sense to come empty handed.”

 “Consider me impressed, Mr. Wang,” Jo admitted and allowed a smile of her own to bloom on her features.

Only then did it hit Jackson what a beautiful woman Jo truly was.

“Aren’t you worried about being photographed in the streets, giving flowers to an unknown woman?”

Jackson offered his elbow, which Jo took happily. “I couldn’t care less. Would you like to sit outside?”

“Mhm! It’s still nice and warm, so I propose we should enjoy whatever left this summer has to offer.”

So Jackson guided the two of them to the restaurant area, where he arranged for a table on the outside premises of the restaurant. Their designated waiter was kind enough to provide a vase for the flowers, which Jo arranged meticulously. She wanted to put her purse into her lap, but Jackson insisted on keeping it on his chair instead.

“Thank you for meeting me here, Jo. I realized just now that I did not follow up with a text.”

“I wouldn’t have stood you up, so thanks for having me.” Jo crossed her legs and picked up a menu from the table. “Have you been here before?”

“No, I haven’t. Jinyoung recommended this place, said he came here with some costars after filming his drama and it was nice and quiet.”

Jo couldn’t suppress a giggle. “I suppose they asked about last night.”

Jackson rose his eyes from his menu in an embarrassed look. She noticed and shook her hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. Sam also asked me about it, so I just assumed.”

He laughed. “Don’t know what Sam told you, but I was scolded for returning too soon, so…”

To Jackson, Jo was marvelous when she laughed. His brain developed a reflex to have Jo laugh as often as humanly possible.

“This and that, honestly. Her only care in the world was for me to not blow this. Whatever this meant.”

A waiter met the two guests at their table and Jackson’s response was cut short. He gave his order and took the lead for Jo.

“Truffle Pasta and a Cosmo for the lady, please.”

The waiter took their orders and made haste towards the restaurant.

“The lady, huh?” Jo quirked an eyebrow, but a flirtatious smile did not hesitate to appear on her lips. She was content to let him take the lead. “I can only wonder what it would take to be Jackson Wang’s lady.”

Jackson replayed the earlier conversation he had with the boys about Jo’s open bids to flirt. As they so blatantly pointed out, Jo was dropping the signs right in his face, and he could not be sure how long those signs would keep on coming. Ultimately, if he had anything to lose, he would just lose it.

“Why? Are you interested to find out?”

But what if he had anything to win?

“I see. And what if I am?”

Bingo. Correct answer.

“I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think it beyond this point, Jo.”

Another giggle on her side must have been a good sign. “I like funny men. One of the reasons you were my bias in Got7.”

Jackson draped an arm over his chest in mocked shock. “Were? Who took my place?”

“No one did, Jackson. It’s just that I think I outgrew that phase,”

Jo pushed her cheek into the palm of her hand, still wearing that charming smile of hers. “I had a great time last night, and I mean it. Mostly thanks to you. It made me feel like I was part of the family. And if we’re playing with our cards on the table, I don’t mind telling you that I am attracted to you.”

Jo leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. She took the opportunity to change the topic as she had surprised Jackson.

“Tell me more about the Team Wang project.”

Jackson obliged her inquiry and took the phone out of his pocket to search for a presentation. One way or another, their clothing style matched again, and Jo wondered if coincidences really do exist.

The following two hours were centered around business conversations. Jackson had various ideas he wanted to implement for Team Wang’s digital identity, and Jo offered all the input he asked for. He had a lot of questions about the services Jo was selling through her company, and the latter was surprised to hear hints of curiosities regarding diverse technical aspects. Moreover, she felt comfortable enough to suggest improvements for his ideas, based on her vast acumen in the industry. Their dialogue was pleasant and straightforward, exactly how Jo liked to do business with her partners.

“This is impressive, Jackson. I have to admit I’m surprised you had such a well-defined vision and mission for your team. It was easy to follow.”

“No, you were perfect. I am impressed you challenged me and helped me improve on the go at the same time. I was right to ask for your partnership on this.”

Both their statements were earnest, and perhaps both came to accept there was no moving forward with anyone else. Perhaps in other chapters of their lives as well.

“I want to be conscious of the timeline it would take. This is at least a 6–8-month long initiative, building the digital identity, the marketing campaigns, and the creation of the content per se. I do have capable teams in all these areas, although they are a bit stretched at the moment.”

Jackson nodded his head, yet did not hesitate to respond. “Could we split this work and make a long-term plan? I’ll take it, anyway, but I want us to be completely comfortable with how we plan this. I’d hate to be the thorn in your side.”

“Oh no, there’s no question about it.” Jo hummed for a moment. “I’ll have to sit down with my team to discuss about this, but I think I could lead the prototypes myself for the first two months. We would have to find a considerable amount of time to meet periodically because in this process I’ll need your feedback constantly.”

“Deal.”

Jo’s brows furrowed. “Deal? I just told you we’d need to meet a lot--”

“Deal,” repeated Jackson, even more convincingly than before. “I’m sure we’ll make it work.”

An amused stare was fixated on Jackson. He did not seem to care one bit; he seemed to thrive on it.

“Okay,” Jo sighed finally. “I’ll meet with my guys tomorrow and if all is good on our side, I’ll send the contract for review.”

“If there’s anything I can help with, you can count me in. The contract is for Team Wang, so we’ll help as much as we can.”

Jo extended her hand for a shake. “Let me know what time works best for you tomorrow and I’ll send a link.”

Jackson accepted and shook her hand.

“Good! Now that we’re done with this topic, another Cosmo? Or should you be somewhere else?”

Jo stole a glance at the bouquet of flowers still standing tall in the vase on the table. She felt so absorbed in their conversation that she did not notice when dusk turned to darkness and the streets started flooding with people. It was a Friday evening, after all. Jo’s days for the past couple of years meant work, over work, with some extra work on top, so much so that she did not plan anything too special for her trip to Seoul either. Even if, unintentionally, she managed her calendar better to account for some free time that time around.

“I don’t have any plans, actually,” Jo admitted bashfully and looked away to the streets. “I don’t remember the last time I planned something other than work.”

Jackson downed the rest of his drink and asked for the check. “You planned to move here, didn’t you? And coming to Mark’s birthday. Don’t beat yourself up.”

Jo watched his movements as he paid for the check and then smiled at her.

“If I remember correctly, your house is somewhere on the outskirts of Gangnam, and we are now close to the main area. I cannot promise I’ll be the best guide around, but I’ll try to keep up!”

A puzzled look was sketched on Jo’s features when Jackson gently scooped the flowers in his arms, as well as throwing her Prada mini bag on his shoulder. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Would you like to sightsee in Gangnam with me?”

Gangnam at night was a wonder. A wild assembly of colored neon lights pierced the night sky to give it a cartoon-like style. The faces in the crowd blended until one could no longer differentiate between local and foreign, and Jo felt like an acquaintance from overseas would pop out of nowhere. An untamed buzz enveloped the nightlife into a mirage one would hardly wake up from.

“Wow,” Jo finally mustered, allowing herself to fully take in the picture into her mind before speaking. “This is absolutely beautiful.”

Jackson had one hand in the pocket of his trousers to protect the Prada mini bag from falling. With the other arm he was holding the bouquet and two bottles of water that he absolutely refused to share with Jo. As Jo was grasping the surroundings, Jackson swiftly placed himself closer to the side of the road, to make sure he always kept Jo on the safer side.

“You never get used to it. I’ve been living in Seoul a long time and I’m amazed every time I come around here. It feels different each time, somehow.”

“I can’t imagine how it must have felt to give up everything and come here. The old JYP building was in this area, wasn’t it?”

Jackson nodded and a nostalgic grin spread on his face. “This really brings up memories. And I never regretted one moment. Felt sad? Yes. But never regret.”

Jo took out her phone to snap pictures of the area. She allowed herself to give in to the relaxed mood, to Jackson’s presence, to turn off her brain for a short while. Jo couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but Jackson felt like the safest person to be with. When they started walking, Jo was two paces ahead to take all the photos she wanted, and Jackson kept a close eye on her at all times. She was cherishing the surroundings, and Jackson was cherishing Jo.

“Jo, be careful!”

Jackson hastily pulled Jo by the waist to move her out of a careless bicycle’s trajectory. His grasp was firm yet pleasant, and he held her close until all danger passed. And some seconds afterwards. Jo perked up at him.

“My knight in shining armor. You’re making yourself irresistible.”

He smirked and let her go. Jo settled closer by his side. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I would say I am extremely thoughtful, and my actions will not cause a scandal for you. We could at least take a selfie to celebrate our first almost-date.”

As Jo was wiping the front camera of her phone, she could swear that a slight hue of pink colored Jackson’s cheeks. Jo fit herself into the frame by leaning against Jackson’s shoulder, her hair falling over his arm. He inched closer and displayed a small smile.

“Have I ever told you I absolutely hate the way you’re taking casual pictures? You could slay a tiger with the looks you have in all those magazines, but for all others, I swear to God!”

Jackson’s mouth widened in awe. “What would you have me do? I can’t pose for these kinds of selfies. I want to be authentic in our pictures.”

“I’m playing with you!”

Jackson stole the phone from Jo’s hand. “No-uh, I’m not letting you get away so easily! If you’re talking to me about magazines, then pose for the camera, little lady!”

Jo placed her hands on either side of her hips to accept his demand. The baggy jeans and the oversized leather jacket made her look decisively cute.

“Come on, right over there, the light of that building is gorgeous.”

And Jo walked over to the indicated spot. It was the perfect time to practice all those poses she imagined for when she would appear on the Forbes 30 under 30 cover edition. As she played around, Jackson kept encouraging and hyping her up, up until she burst out laughing and she gave up the model act. She put up peace signs and enjoyed the moment to its fullest.

Jackson looked extremely pleased with the results. “I genuinely think that you would have ended all model careers if you went for modelling.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not, just look at yourself!”

Jo had to give him credit. Jackson swiped to the final photo: a candid shot of Jo smiling ear to ear, with her peace signs up in the air, and sheer joy filling the frame. He stopped his bickering to admire the picture and quickly airdropped it to his phone.

“What are you doing, Jackson?” Jo laughed and swiped her phone back from his hand.

“I wanted to have a memory with you like this forever.”

Jo covered her spontaneous smile with the back of her hand and allowed him to watch her blushing cheeks. “You’re a pro at this.”

“At what?” Jackson questioned and felt the sudden desire to hold her hand. He allowed it to brush against hers to ask for permission.

“At making me want to kiss you.”

Jo welcomed his invitation and rapidly intertwined her fingers with his. Being well aware that that was as much as he could offer in the obscenity of the open world, Jo matched her pace with his to resume the night stroll. Jackson approached Jo to whisper into her ear.

“I’ll kiss you when I get you home.”

The woman chuckled. “You’d better do tongue and all.”

“It’s been some time, so bear with me while I warm up.”

In a fleeting 45 minutes, Jackson and Jo found themselves standing in front of Jo’s porch. The full crown of the surrounding trees offered the two the privacy they needed, even if the front street was otherwise quiet.

“This is a nice change from the craziness of Gangnam,” Jo spoke and turned her body to Jackson. From the moment they held hands, Jackson never let go. Jo adored that little gesture as much as she adored the way the moonlight painted his face.

“I like it better this way.” He agreed and stepped in to look her in the eyes. “Remember that I told you I didn’t really think it past this point? The two of us?”

“Loud and clear actually.”

“It’s true. You had me at your pinky the moment you winked at me during the concert.”

Jo started laughing. “I’ve heard that before.”

“I never doubted you knew what you were doing.”

It was the first time in the past hour that Jackson let go of Jo’s hand to put the flowers and her purse on the nearby grass. After relieving himself of the objects, he took both her hands in his.

“Look Jo, I don’t know how this works for most people. I had a lot of come-and-go situations but all of them ended because of the same thing. I’m always one step ready to fly out in some other country and I don’t want to keep you from meeting someone you’d get to love every day.”

“Funny,” Jo countered with a genuine smile. “I said the same thing to Sam. You and I are the same, Jackson. We’re working our assess to chase all these dreams and quite frankly, I think we’re going to stop when we’re six feet under.”

Jackson laughed but could not deny her words. She spoke further and he had the impression that her voice was lower, gentler than before.

“So what? You’re not preventing me from doing anything. I am not preventing you from doing anything. But I want to try. It’s like you said, if we’re meant to live a life, we’ll live it. We’ll never know unless we try.”

Jackson released one of his hands to cusp her cheek. He ran his thumb over the softness of her skin, taking in the sight of her eyes.

“Besides, you don’t know if you’ll actually like me. I’m quite feisty and stubborn.”

“I can work with feisty and stubborn,” he chuckled his eyes lowering to the plush of her lips. “I can think of some ways you can put out the fire.”

Jo pressed her palm in the firmness of his chest. She noticed his drifting eyes and bit into her lower lip. “You’d better start, then. You said you needed to warm up?”

“Work me out, Jo.”

Jackson sealed the remaining distance between their bodies and locked his lips with hers. A frisky kiss, their smiles melting into one another that provoked Jo to giggle. Jackson seized the moment to slide his tongue past her lower lip into an arousing chase. The hand on her cheek pulled her closer into him, and Jo arched her back to meet his demands. When they finally pulled away after what felt like an eternity, Jo observed the insatiable hunger lingering in his gaze.

“My, my, were you lying when you said you hadn’t done this in a while?”  

Jackson chuckled. “All sincere.”

“You’re a very good kisser.”

Jackson pulled her into an embrace. There was no way he could hide his growing bulge, and he hoped he would cloak the shy expression he was wearing.

Of course Jo was not going to let that slide.

“Do you want to continue this inside?” Her hand was tracing lower from his chest but, to her surprise, Jackson stopped it to entwine their fingers once more.

“As tempting as it sounds, I think we should take this slow.”

Jo had expected to feel more offended by his rejection. She was astonished to agree with him completely and fully respect his decision. Jo peeled herself from his chest to look up at him. “That’s fair. I would not want to reveal all my aces from the get-go.”

Jackson was delighted that him and Jo saw eye to eye on the proposition. “I’m really looking forward to meeting you in your entirety, Jo. Maybe we could start with full names?” He planted a kiss on her forehead and laughed.

Jo closed her eyes and allowed herself to be engulfed in his presence. If laughter was destined to be their strongest pillar, Jo would take it. “Maybe next time, Jackson.”

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3

[write-it-good-imagines]

Every Rule Has An Exception

Hello, everyone! Happy spring! Happy to be back. I got this surge of inspiration, and what better way to use it than writing a Jackson-centered piece? :) PS: It ties slightly into the Nothing More story, but can also be read independently.

PS2: This is the mashup I used as inspo for one of the scenes below. Enjoy listening!!

±4k words, fluff, GOT7 party, romance build up

“I’m so sorry I’m late Sam. You don’t usually sign up to be a babysitter for grown-ups, but I guess it’s part of the job.”

“It’s no biggie, we’re just warming up. Mark's birthday is not for another couple hours,” Samantha chuckled on the other end of the line. Jo was speaking the truth; she really was sorry for being more than an hour late. “But yeah, you’re the last one to arrive.”

“I can take that, okay?” Jo followed with a smile. “This gentleman with the Uber is really revving it up for me!”

“Take care, okay? We’ll be here a while anyway!”

Jo put her phone into her purse and guided a hand to her nape to massage it. An ugly knot was forming in her stiff muscles, and she let out a sigh. Her smartwatch buzzed up with another work message, and she tapped the screen to turn it off. She caught a glimpse of the time before doing so: 9:30 PM. Against her better wishes, the flight from the States to Korea left her jetlagged.

Jo tried to turn off her brain for the remainder of the trip, yet various scenarios were creeping up in her mind. Could she have done better during her meetings? Did she leave a first good impression to her partners? Was she appropriate enough in terms of their cultural differences?

“I should stop.” She murmured to herself and leaned against the headrest of the car. The Uber driver had a small minibar in his car and was kind enough to offer her a bottle of water. Jo left a generous tip for his gesture when she got out of the car.

The house that Samantha rented for Mark’s birthday was lit up like a Christmas tree. Despite it being somewhere in the buzzing heart of Seoul, it was neatly tucked away behind generous vegetation, and it offered an air of privacy. A purple gleam coming out of the house had Jo shield her eyes. She relaxed her shoulders; if she came, she might as well enjoy herself.

“Fashionably late, the party showstopper is here!”

To her surprise, the music was not obscenely loud, and her voice instantly caught Mark’s attention. He was wearing a party hat and a pair of pink funky glasses with faux feathers around the lenses. Mark greeted her at the door with a tall glass of champagne.

“Finally,” he teased. “Welcome, Jo!”

“Happy Birthday, Mark! It looks like Sam took care of everything around here.”

Jo gladly took the glass and pointed to the colorful balloons floating in the entrance area. The whole living room space was opened, with a dark matte staircase indicating the access to the superior floor. A lot of birthday decorations in sight, changing the otherwise sombre colors of the house into an inviting underground club kind of style. She felt a bit out of place, in her dark Ralph Lauren suit and Manolo Blahnik white mules. She could at least unbutton one or two buttons of her shirt.

“I’m told she and Bambam plotted to make everything around here as is. Oh, speaking of the devil!”

Samantha quickly chimed in, wearing a matching party hat with Mark. He gave her a peck on the cheek.

“I swear to God, Jo, I started wondering if you’d actually show up today.”

“Oh, you know me, never missing a good party! Mark, do you have any pair of slippers around here? These heels are killing my feet.”

“I’ll go look upstairs. The landlords said we would have a box of necessities somewhere around here. Excuse me, ladies.”

Mark took Jo’s handbag to put it in the luggage area upstairs. Sam grabbed her friend by the hand, tugging her into the crowd. There was not an excessive number of people but, apart from the rest of the Got7 members, there were some unfamiliar faces in the group. To Jo, at least.

“I’m so happy you could make it! I meant what I said. I can’t imagine how tired you must be.”

“Ah, I can’t compare to you, Sam. I’m not operating people in double digit times. Have you given Mark the present yet?”

Jo dipped her head in a bow when she noticed Jinyoung in the crowd. He returned the gesture.

“Not yet. Bambam said he had some fireworks going on? I don’t really know; I have the feeling he’s hiding something. By the way,”

Sam leaned in closer to Jo’s ear and hid her lips with the back of her hand. “Someone was eagerly waiting for you.”

For a moment, Jo was clueless. “Oh, why, is Johnny regretful about something? I don’t see him here.”

“Come on, Jo. I think you know better than that.”

“I… don’t?”

Samantha noticed Jinyoung making his way through the crowd. “Well then, I’ll leave you in good hands with Jinyoung. Maybe he’ll give you a hint if he’s nice enough. I must go talk to the cake delivery!”

Before she had the chance to protest, Samantha made her way swiftly towards the kitchen area. Jo was left hanging with her arm in the air. Jinyoung chuckled when he heard her sigh.

“Trouble in paradise?” he dared and showed a path to where Jaebum and another unfamiliar figure were talking.

Jo had to mentally adjust to the change of language. She forgot she had spoken to the other in Korean when they met backstage at the concert. “Oh well, sometimes you just have to give up with that woman.”

Jinyoung introduced Jo to some of the foreign people in the house, and he helped her with leading the conversations. It did not take long for Jo to ease into the atmosphere, quickly reminded of her older college days. A sworn extrovert, as Samantha would say. Jo was happy to join their company, as the tumult of the past day was slowly easing into a celebratory atmosphere. At some point, she picked up the growing rhythm of the music, only to notice Bambam had also contacted a DJ for the night. At some point, someone had offered her a paper crown to put on her head, but she never noticed who had given the accessory to her.

“It suits you.” Jinyoung gestured to the party headpiece. “And somehow works with the suit as well.”

Jo knew he was joking. She appreciated the gesture. “Thanks! I just hope Mark returns with those slippers soon because I cannot feel my feet at this point.”

Jinyoung dipped his head in a small motion. “Don’t worry, your slippers are here.”

Jo turned her head and noticed Jackson approaching through the crowd. A smile flourished on her features, and it was certainly not meant for the slippers. Maybe Jackson noticed, as he did not hesitate to smile right back at her. He was wearing a crown party headpiece of his own, fitting for his last name.

“Someone called for a special delivery?” Jackson chuckled and proudly displayed the so-called delivery. “This house really does have everything!”

“Why don’t you help her change her shoes?” Jaebum taunted, taking a sip of his drink. He was closer to Jackson, so Jo could not figure out his words entirely. Jackson showed a surprising look and was faster to act. He offered his hand to the woman.

“Come, let’s find you a seat to change.”

Both very happy with the outcome, Jinyoung and Jaebum waved to the other two as they left. Jackson gently took the lead and guided Jo to a comfortable armchair in a tucked away corner of the kitchen. Jo watched Jackson as he knelt in front of her, placing the spare shoes on the ground. She would notice later; they were matching clothes, with Jackson wearing a loose Louis Vuitton dark suit.

“May I?” Jackson gestured to Jo’s heels, prepared to take them off for her.

“No need, Jackson, I can handle it no problem.”

His amused eyes prevented Jo from taking any further action. She acknowledged his request and relaxed into the plush of the chair.

“It’s the least I can do as one of the hosts,” Jackson spoke and swiftly slipped the heels away from Jo’s tired feet. He had an impulse to massage the soles but quickly shook it away. He did notice the woman’s sigh of relief.

“Host?” Jo asked, wiggling her toes for a bit. Jackson noticed and stalled his movements to give her some space. “So, you’re in charge of the after-cleaning?”

“Please don’t tell anyone, but I lost the rock-paper-scissor game, and I need to bear the consequences of my own actions.”

They both laughed. Jo felt her energy rising and motioned for Jackson to put on the slippers. She showed a mocking gesture of secrecy, “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Appreciate it. I’m happy I don’t have to give this suit back, so I think I’ll be forgiven if I spill something on the fabric by mistake.”

Jackson offered his hand again to help Jo stand, and the latter accepted happily. “Thank you, Jackson. You made my life easier.”

“Again, least I can do.”

Jo lingered for a little while before letting go of his hand. She was now 6cm shorter without the heels, yet Jackson did not seem to mind. Neither of those actions.

“I mean, for the slippers too, but I felt like a total clown coming in with this posh suit when everyone’s wearing their comfiest clothes. At least I’m matching someone in style now.”

Jackson grabbed his glass of half-finished Hennessy from the nearby counter. “Nonsense. You’re extremely beautiful, with or without the suit.”

Jo was not the one to get nervous by such remarks. Truth was, she was used to hearing such comments from all the men who either tried to buy her out of her business or persuade her into submission. She knew Jackson was not ill-intentioned, but she also knew it was in his nature to be friendly and unknowingly flirty. No matter how well they seemed to click during their outing the other day with Samantha and Mark.

“How come?” Jo asked and grabbed her own glass of unfinished champagne. She wanted to be cautious with the alcohol; she could not remember if she had had anything to eat during the day. “I didn’t have the chance to check my makeup, and I’m sure my hair is not as slick as I want it to be.”

Jackson looked as if Jo had told him the Earth was flat. “Stop toying with my feelings and just accept the facts.”

“Jackson! Jo!” Bambam interrupted with a shout, his dark sunglasses vibing with the music in the speakers. Yugyeom was holding the other by the shoulders, and it seemed like they had just had another round of shots. “Don’t keep all the fun to yourselves! Come on over and let’s shake our asses on the dancefloor!”

“Hear, hear!” Yugyeom followed. “We wanted to be in full formula before we got this party started!”

“Full formula? What’s that about?”

“I asked them to hold off for a little while till you got here,” Jackson replied and gestured with his head to join the bigger group.

Someone was eagerly waiting for you.

“Right…” Jo chuckled to herself and happily joined the others to kick off the celebrations. However, the wild dancing was postponed yet again as the catering delivery had just made its way inside the generous living room. Bambam insisted that the music should not be turned down and was happy to share a pizza with the DJ. Jo grabbed a paper plate and served some chicken pops and fries. Her body started grooving with the music.

“Is this me, or is this a playlist similar to what we used to have in college?”

“Sharp as always,” Samantha admitted and took a big bite of her quattro formaggi slice. “So, I was planning all this with Bam, right? And he said, ‘We must have a good mix. How can we call it a party without a good mix?’ and I said, ‘I got you homie, ’ and then I gave the DJ my old Spotify playlist that I played when you twerked on me at that Sophomore gathering.”

Jo almost spit her food laughing. Jackson and Mark were listening to the story with much interest. Objectively, of course. “Oh my God, Sam! I thought I was too drunk to remember that, but hell if my subconscious wants me to forget that. Music really is a very strong sense.”

“Isn’t that when you made out with Jonathan?” Samantha continued in a forgotten revelation.

“It was! Next morning, we had joint practice with the boys’ volleyball team, and he asked me out at a set point. To hell if I set anything that morning!”

Mark saw Jackson wincing and started laughing too. "I swear to God, Jonathan had kissed all of our girls. Yikes."

“Did you play in the collegiate league?” Jackson asked Jo, trying to change the subject of kissing some other men. Perhaps if he hadn’t met Jonathan, he wouldn’t have given it much thought. Maybe jealousy was too strong of a word.

“I did, first three years I think,” Jo nodded her head. “2016 seems so far away now, doesn’t it?”

Jackson did a quick calculation in his head. His eyes widened in surprise. “You got admitted to Stanford in 2014?”

Jo did not question how Jackson knew about her studies. “Oh yeah. Sam and I are class of 2017, even though in different majors.”

“You could have actually met if Jackson had gone to Stanford back then!” Mark joked, pushing the other man slightly with his shoulder.

It was Jo’s turn to be surprised. She turned her body towards Jackson. “I totally forgot! You got a scholarship for fencing in 2012, didn’t you?”

Jackson smiled. “It’s funny how the world works. If I had accepted and met the two of you, maybe I wouldn’t have met my other 6 brothers. And vice-versa.”

People were preparing to put their plates to the side, and Jaebum took lead of gathering the remaining food to carry it to the kitchen. Samantha offered to help, cutting their reminiscent discussion short.

“Do you ever think about what could have been?” Jo stole a glance at Jackson, who quickly shook his head.

“I used to. Not anymore, though. I think if we’re not living a certain life is because we are not meant to live it.”

“Mhm,” Jo accepted and angled her head to look him in the eyes. Although more mature, Jackson was still the same insightful person who captured her attention in the group. That glimmer in his eyes could not be seen behind a TV screen. Jo was wearing the same daring expression she wore when she captured Jackson’s attention during their concert. “I think every rule has an exception.”

With the tip of her finger, Jo provoked Jackson to follow her into the crowd towards the middle of the living room where the group was gathering. A suave come here which elicited a hearty laughter from Jackson would later be one of his core memories about Jo. For the moment, he obliged to follow her and ease the tension in his shoulders. Jackson gulped the rest of his drink and left the glass somewhere he did not bother to remember. A remix of Beauty and a Beat and Club Can’t Handle Me got everyone moving.

Jo felt her body lighter, allowing the good vibes to collide with her system. A long time had passed since she had felt relaxed, even more so since she had felt that she could express herself freely.

All I need / Is a beauty and a beat / Who can make my life complete…

At some point, Jackson and Jo twisted and came to face one another, just as if the Universe had plotted to lock them on the same frequency. It did not take long for Jackson to capture Jo’s full attention, and the woman inched closer to him, accepting his exclusive invitation.

You know I know how / To make ‘em stop and stare / Watching you watching me I go all out…

Smiles turning into smirks turning into alluring movements had Jo in Jackson’s utmost proximity. Neither of them took it one step further, to break the suspense of a first touch. Jo was testing the waters, with the tips of the fingers tracing ghostly touches under Jackson’s chin. He smirked right back at her, licking his lips with the tip of his tongue. Yet he was patient, he was telling himself. As a matter of fact, Jackson took his sweet time memorizing Jo’s silhouette and fantasizing how he would grab her by the waist in a moment of weakness—

“EVERYONE!!!” Bambam shouted through the music, “Fireworks are out, now!!”

Rushed movements ferried the group into the private garden of the house, where Bambam prepared himself to press on a very ominous red button on a remote. Amidst the chaos, Samantha observed the way Jo and Jackson danced with one another, unconsciously yet attentively isolating themselves from the crowd.

“What’s the time?” Jaebum asked laughing and positioned himself by Bam’s side to break the surprise loose.

Jinyoung cupped his hands around his mouth to shout back at them. He was careful enough to leave his glasses inside the house. “3 minutes to midnight!”

Jaebum and Bambam then nodded to one another, and it was enough of a signal for Bam to press the red button. Once pressed, sudden popping sounds erupted from some nearby devices, sending fireworks into the sky. Simultaneously, the garden sprinkles went off, covering the group in droplets of water. Jo let out a shriek and instinctively put her hands in the air to cover her face. Jackson took out his jacket to cover Jo’s frame as best as he could, bravely facing the water himself. The silence was broken by hearty laughter that burst out of their chests. Jo turned to Jackson. Under Jackson’s improvised cloth shield, where the water caused Jo’s mascara to smear and Jackson’s hair to ruin, they were laughing, and they were happy.

The sprinklers ceased fire, and Jackson lowered his jacket. Youngjae came out of the house with an impressive green cake, with multiple candles burning brightly.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Mark!”

Everyone heeded Youngjae’s singing to celebrate Mark. He blew into a party horn, still wearing those ridiculous party glasses, and then grasped his hands together to make a wish before blowing out the candles.

“This is definitely one of the happiest moments of my life,” Jackson spoke, throwing his jacket somewhere on the lawn to rake his wet hair.

Jo was silent for a while. Watching Mark blowing the candles, Samantha taking a video of the entire moment, and the boys’ friends earnestly celebrating their bond and Mark, everything reminded Jo of her college days. Between time and life, where she once stood in Mark’s shoes, she could not remember the last time she had that genuine feeling in her chest. She missed the sensation.

“Me too,” Jo finally spoke and leaned her head against Jackson’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

The party came to an end in the depth of the night. The guests gradually started leaving and it was 3AM when Jo went outside in the garden to grab some fresh air. Summer was still strong in the breeze, in the movements of the trees, and in the shining stars of the sky. The lawn was covered into spaghetti confetti, a piece of the cake was still lying where Mark was pushed with his face into the whipped cream with an empty bottle of champagne next to it. Jo remembered Jackson was supposed to be in charge of cleaning and she felt bad for him.

Jo took out her jacket and put it on the grass to seat atop of it. It was too late to think about grass smears, and she could only hope the Seoul cleaners would be able to revive her entire suit.

“It was all worth it.”

“What was?”

Jackson approached the woman with two glasses of water. Jo gestured for him to join her, seeing as he was already prepared anyway, and he seated himself next to her on the damp grass.

“I was just thinking I would have to pay good money to resuscitate this, Ralph Lauren.”

“Ah,” Jackson laughed. “I don’t want to sound like an entitled prick, but I gave up on mine.”

It was Jo’s turn to laugh. “I’ll give you a call if I find this magical cleaner. But now that I think about it, I don’t think I gave you my number.”

“Isn’t this as good a reason as any?”

Jo mimicked shock on her face to which Jackson laughed. “Ouch, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t want my number.”

Jackson mirrored her expression, albeit more genuinely. “Please forgive me.”

Jo tapped her chin with the index. “I’ll let it slide. Just this once.”

Jackson’s chest deflated from letting out all that air. “I got lucky.”

While she was typing her contact into Jackson’s phone, he spoke. “Are you leaving soon?”

“I should. I have a meeting at 8AM if you can imagine.”

“I don’t know why but I actually can.”

Jo quirked an eyebrow. “Just because I carry it well doesn’t mean it’s not heavy.”

She knew she must have ruined the fun when Jackson did not reply. He was playing with the tattooed skin of his finger. Jo cleared her throat and handed the phone back.

“I’ll go upstairs to gather my things, and I’ll order an Uber. It shouldn’t take too long to get home. It’s a nightmare to think I’ll have to change back into those heels.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you to the car and take you home.”

Jo scoffed. “I can handle that.”

Jackson’s eyes were too serious for his own good. And to argue, for that matter. “Okay, I’ll give you my loafers, but I’ll still take you home. You refused last time we went out and I spammed Sam’s phone with messages to make sure you got home safe.”

Jo was surprised. For some reason, Samantha had failed to mention that to her. Unless that was the plan all along. “She never said. But what will you take then? You can’t imagine I’d accept you walking barefoot on the streets.”

Jackson simply pointed to the slippers on her feet. “I mean, I’m getting back here anyway.”

“There’s no use arguing with you, is it?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Not about these kinds of things, no.”

“Do tell, what can I argue with you about?”

Jackson rose to his feet. “We can find out if you’d like, I guess,” he extended his hand to help her get up. It was the second time that night Jo lingered into his touch, which was warmer this time around. “Come on, I’ll take your things.”

Jackson stopped in his tracks for a quick moment. A quick moment that would have had Jo blushing, maybe under different circumstances. "You're still as beautiful."

Samantha and Mark accompanied Jackson and Jo to the front gate. The sight of Jo wearing Jackson’s loafers, which were noticeably bigger than her size, had Samantha giggling.

“The Jo I knew would have chosen to die rather than take her heels off.”

Jo sneered and folded her arms over her chest. “Maybe this Jo learnt a thing or two.”

“Mhm,” Samantha remarked.

“Hey, Jackson, let’s leave the girls to say their goodbyes. We can wait for the Uber in the street.”

“Happy birthday once again, Mark. I hope you’ve had fun and do enjoy this day to the fullest.”

“Thank you for coming, Jo. I know it was short notice and everything, but I do appreciate your presence here. We’ll clean up and get to sleep most likely.”

As Jackson and Mark walked away from the gate, Samantha approached Jo, facing her with her arms crossed over the chest as well. “And? What did this Jo learn tonight?”

Jo chuckled. “This and that.”

“This Jo and that Jo, as I said, would die and not take off her heels for no man. Surprise, surprise, you’re wearing Jackson’s loafers.”

“Yeah, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

Samantha continued taunting. “This Jo and that Jo would have probably slammed her lips against his. What was it that you claimed? Fuck around and find out?”

Jo did not comment.

“Maybe if Bam wouldn’t have cut off the moment, you just might have.”

The girls turned their attention towards the car. Mark was waving for them to approach.

“Who knows? He’s taking me home, isn’t he?”

Samantha watched Jo with a devious look in the eye. “He is.”

Chapter 2

[write-it-good-imagines]

in 2025 let’s bring back being enthusiastic on ao3. leave a comment on every chapter. leave kudos and, if necessary, leave “double kudos” in the comments. tags and notes on bookmarks. the whole nine yards. let’s show fanfic authors how much we love them.

[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More (M) - Eight [END]

(Author's message) Hello everyone! I wish you a happy new year, and may all your wishes come true! This is the end of Mark and Sam's story; endings may often look to new beginnings *wink wink*. Enjoy!

~7k words - fluff, love, mature language, happy ending.

"I'm telling you, I can't get out of the fucking house. They're behind all these trees with the fucking lens pointed at me!"

Samantha's expression was exasperated. Checking her watch one more time, she pointed out that she would definitely be late for her morning surgery if that charade continued. It seemed like it had no intention of ending.

"It's 6 AM in the fucking morning."

"Do you want me to come pick you up?"

"No, Jonathan, did you forget what we talked about last night?"

"I could come pick you up," Leena's voice chimed into the conversation. "Unless they want to write you off as female-oriented or whatever."

In any given situation, Samantha would have laughed at that.

"It's funny, I'll give you that."

"Did you call Mark?" Jonathan picked up.

"I will not bother him on his Tokyo Day concert."

"I have no problem bothering him."

"Jonathan, what can Mark possibly do in this situation?"

"Have a bodyguard army at your door? Just sayin'."

"Yeah, sure, shove the shit while it's warm.”

Samantha grabbed a hat hanging from the coat rack and leaned to the floor to pick Murphy up in her arms. He'd grown larger since her and Mark's first encounter, and he sensed something was off as he started snarling.

"We don't know what to say, Sam." Leena interfered. "Is there anything we can do to help you feel better?"

The Eskie tensed his body at the door when Samantha finished attaching his leash. If not for the fact that he would grow into a medium-sized dog, his black fur would make him look intimidating. "I have absolutely no idea. I have to walk Murphy, and I genuinely hope they will not shove some microphones in my face."

"An emergency case with intracranial pressure just came in. I'll ask Leena to page me in the OR if you need us to get you out of anything."

Samantha put on a mask over her features and shoved the hat better on her head. She opened the door reluctantly, and Murphy took the lead to sniff around for any immediate dangers. "You can't let an open brain hang in the OR."

"I'll page Henry to come in."

Samantha scoffed. "You'd sooner die."

"I promised your mighty knight I'd take care of you. If that means making peace with the enemy, I will."

"Whatever you do, just don't do that. I don't want him to hang any more things over our heads. We have too much on our plate right now." Samantha emphasized and followed Murphy on his well-known morning route around the house. When the morning air brushed against her thighs, did she realize she had gone out in her worn-out shorts.

"Watch me be fat now," she mumbled to herself and felt the pressure of the surrounding eyes on the back of her head. The Eskie started barking, and Samantha had to pet him to ease him. They hadn't passed the 200-meter mark away from Samantha's house and turned back around hastily. The woman caught a released flash aimed at her silhouette and was inches away from throwing both the mask and the hat away to give the paparazzi what they wanted and, highly likely, a middle finger, too.

She refrained from doing so.

While packing for the hospital Samantha pondered over the situation. Caught in an unusual position, neither alleged violence nor friendliness towards the press seemed to be the proper way of moving forward. She laughed to herself, albeit bitterly; being a celebrity’s girlfriend seemed to require PR training. “Comes with the job,” Samantha chose a black suit for the day and hurriedly put all her belongings into the hospital bag. She put on the motorcycle helmet and kicked the gear off to head to the hospital.

The clock in the hospital lobby signaled that she had barely made it in time for the scheduled surgery she had. The lobby was quiet for a week morning, which allowed her to gather her thoughts and get into the zone. Samantha visited her patient for the morning consult to offer the reassurance she had always inspired before any surgery. She assembled her team and instructed the nurses on what routine they had to follow, and then left for the antechamber of the operating room to change her attire and prepare accordingly.

Samantha pushed the door with her shoulder only to be met by a very familiar yet unpleasant figure.

“I haven’t even had my coffee yet, Henry.”

Henry was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Maybe it was Samantha’s imagination, but he was not wearing his endearing expression. He seemed displeased.

“Neither have I. It’s hard to catch you around these parts, Sam.”

“And you figured you’d barge into my C-section.”

Henry sighed. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

The sound of flowing water interrupted their exchange as Samantha kicked the water tank to disinfect her hands. “Lucky me. Then you might as well leave.”

“I’ll ignore this comment for now.”

Samantha was silent, brushing her nails with the betadine sponge.

“How does it feel to be a public person now?”

Ah. So that was it about.

“Why? Jealous?”

“You’ll probably be scrutinized.”

Samantha coked her eyebrow. “Probably.”

“Even with that bartender, though. Was he easy meat?”

Samantha chuckled. “I imagine I hurt your feelings quite badly, ditching the infamous rising star for a handsome bartender.”

Henry angled his body towards her. “Do you really want to become an object?”

Samantha kicked the water tank again to wipe her hands off the substance surplus.

“Oh? I was not aware I was anything else but an object to you.”

“…I’m sorry.”

Samantha chuckled again and grabbed a clean cloth to dry her hands. “We’re a bit late for that, don’t you think?”

Henry’s eyes fell on her face. Samantha knew that not getting what he wanted threw him off. It had always been like that; until she chose to be the bigger person and dropped her guard to bring them both together again. It was a long time coming to this point, but Samantha was happy to have finally reached it.

“I would have understood choosing Jonathan, with you getting intimate and all that. He’s tall, he’s Swedish, he makes a lot of money, and he was truly eating from the palm of your hand. I just can’t wrap my head around why this guy. What does he have to offer you?”

A content smile spread rapidly on Samantha’s face, and she kicked the OR door open triumphantly. “You’d never understand what it takes to be a real man, Henry.”

The surgery ended smoothly, and Samantha felt happy to see yet another family welcoming their precious angel to the world. After introducing the infant to the parents, Samantha took the baby and the family to the NICU to perform a couple of routine tests. All the nurses greeted Samantha with a serene smile and handed the little patients’ charts to their doctor. The image of a new life, of hopeful dreams and futures, reminded Samantha why she chose the profession in the first place. And why she would never give it up again for anything in the world.

“Doctor Stoss, your phone is buzzing,” a nurse called out, and Samantha put the charts down to pick it up.

[From: Mark] good morning, fair doctor

[From: Mark] I hope your day will be as fantastic as you

[From: Mark] the news hit us here, too. How are you? Can I do anything for you?

[From: Mark] I’ll drop my statement today. We’re wrapping up the text

Samantha softly smiled. Despite it being quite an autonomous evolution of things, she was happy that Mark kept her in his thoughts. She knew he was holding on as much as he could, for the both of them.

[To: Mark] good morning rockstar

[To: Mark] I know you’ll kick ass on stage <3

[To: Mark] ah well, you know, being photographed at 6 AM while walking Murphy is not exactly my cup of tea

[To: Mark] I have this impulse to throw up my middle finger but whatever

[From: Mark] thanks love <3

[From: Mark] lol that’s me everyday

[From: Mark] I wish I could say it will get better

[From: Mark] we’ll see each other at the end of the week

[From: Mark] I can’t wait to get back to you

[From: Mark] can I do anything for you in the meantime?

A giggle filled the room and caused one of the babies in the NICU to smile as well.

“Oh? Is the Seoul concert at the end of the week? I should call Jo.”

Samantha decided not to tell Mark she would join them at the venue. She wanted to surprise him and prove to him that she was not scared of the curious public if she had him by her side.

[To: Mark] I’m cool with it, really

[To: Mark] I only care about what you think of me

[To: Mark] can’t wait to have you back, babe

[To: Mark] don’t worry. Jonathan is ready to throw hands if needed

[To: Mark] maybe lmk if I need to speak to the public or something

[To: Mark] Jackson told me I shouldn’t but I want to make sure

[From: Mark] atta girl

[From: Mark] I’d rather he wouldn’t punch anyone, but I’ll give a pass if needed

[From: Mark] let’s wait and see how things go

[From: Mark] gtg we’re rehearsing soon

[From: Mark] I love you

Samantha’s face lit up once more. [To: Mark] I love you too

Mark put his phone to the side to reunite with the group. There was a loud echo in the empty venue coming from the usage of the microphones with Bambam and Yugyeom playing around.

“Hear hear, all of us here?”

Mark picked up his microphone and went to the middle of the main stage, where the rest of the members and some other staff members were.

“Now that we’re all here,” Jaebum started, “let’s give Mark a round of applause.”

“Come on,” Mark rolled his eyes at the cheers and the hoots. “There was no need to do this.”

Bambam snickered and leaned against his shoulder, “Call it initiation.”

“Actually,” Mark continued, “I have something to say.”

All eyes turned to him. “I want to use the speech break we have to initiate our fans as well.”

“Do you think I should put my Instagram on private?”

“Oh, did the hate comments come in already?”

“Not really. A measure of precaution after Mark speaks to the public and whatnot.”

Jonathan quickly searched for Samantha on Instagram even though he had already been following her. Leena had just arrived with her lunch and blinked confusedly at the gloomy atmosphere.

“What is going on? It feels like someone’s cat died.”

“You have 40k followers. What the hell? Did you have this many before the news broke out?”

Samantha sighed. “I did. Did you forget I used to write travel blogs and give medicine tips and tricks? Besides, it’s mostly people back in America.”

Leena reached out for her phone to look up Samantha on Instagram, too. “Never mind, you just got 1k more.”

“Do you guys think I looked ugly in my posts or something? Am I overthinking?”

“You are overthinking. You have always been smart and pretty,” Jonathan concluded and tended to his soup.

“Sure, watch my cellulite pop off in this morning’s pictures.”

Samantha picked up her chopsticks to drown the sorrow in her sushi.

“Your legs are too toned for anything to be shown in those pictures,” Leena retorted and picked up her salad. “And I thought you only cared for what Mark thought of you.”

“Social pressure,” the other woman sighed. “How can you both be so calm about this?”

“Sam, you’re turning into a 2024 Carrie,” Jonathan laughed. “I can be your Miranda if you want.”

“Fuck off,” both her and Leena laughed. The latter turned to Samantha, “Look, of course this situation is shitty, but I don’t think being depressed about it helps too much.”

“Leena’s right. Did you notice how people look at me in the street? I feel like I’m Loch Ness.”

“I wouldn’t say Loch Ness is a Swedish story.”

Samantha fiddled with her chopsticks and kept on twisting one piece of sushi into way too much soy sauce. She decided she would change the subject. “Henry came into my OR in the morning.”

Jonathan’s face visibly darkened. “Oh yeah? Whatever did he want this time?”

“You know, the usual. Taunting me about the public exposure. And to apologize.”

Jonathan choked on his chicken. “Funny. Next time, warn me, or I could die.”

“I’m serious. He literally said I’m sorry.”

“Mhm. Wanted to return the investment on that engagement ring.”

It was Samantha’s turn to choke. Leena turned to Jonathan abruptly. “What engagement ring? For whom?”

“A couple of days ago, when he confronted Mark in the lobby. I saw this velvety box he was showing Mark, and my guy laughed in his face. I wish I heard what he said.”

“Mark didn’t tell me about this.”

“Can you blame him? It’s just a bad joke.”

Samantha pondered over Jonathan’s words, trying to rake her mind for any such memory. Mark never told her about Henry’s plans, admittedly so, since he had come for her to end things that night. He truly had better things to worry about.

“Bad joke or no, he’s just grabbed his lunch,” Leena signaled and pointed her fork in Henry’s direction. “And he’s coming this way.”

“Perfect. I wanted to throw up this sweet chicken anyway.”

Samantha caught Henry with the corner of her eye as he sat down to her left and subsequently to Jonathan’s right. On the one hand, their behavior towards one another was still childish. On the other hand, Samantha knew Jonathan had many concerns left to address about Henry. With his fists if possible.

“Mind if I join you?” asked Henry, and Leena quirked her brows.

“I do mind,” Jonathan retorted, not bothering to look at the other. “So kindly find another table.”

“But all other tables are busy, unfortunately,” Henry replied calmly whilst opening his lunch box. “And I’d rather eat lunch in this nice company. Isn’t that so, Miss Martin?”

Leena raised her eyes to the other only to see Jonathan put down his fork. “Don’t talk to her.”

“Who are you to speak on her behalf?” Henry challenged, shoving a handful of food in his mouth.

Leena felt Jonathan was being worked up and rested her hand against his forearm. She shook her head in a silent plea not to engage in the other’s antics. Especially since the first hearing for the Neuro attending position would happen later that day. Henry noticed the intimate gesture and a smirk was contoured in the corner of his mouth.

“Sam, we just finished anyway. We’ll see you later.”

“I see that you’re not answering questions anymore, Jonathan. Cat got your tongue?”

Jonathan stretched his body from the table and cupped Leena’s cheek with a tender touch. “I’m sorry if I taste like sweet chili.” He went further to lean down and kiss Leena, who was taken entirely by surprise. Jonathan grabbed Leena by the hand and walked away, dragging the blushing woman with him.

Samantha chuckled and nodded approvingly.

“As flamboyant as usual,” Henry resumed his eating.

“Hope you got the message. Imagine what he'd do for her if he hit you in the face for me.”

Samantha was prepared to grab her tray and leave, but Henry stopped her. He grabbed her by the wrist, his eyes pleading.

“Could you stay until I finish my meal?”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Please.”

Curious eyes, having already witnessed Jonathan’s show of power, followed the two surgeons, and Samantha had to compromise to avoid attracting any more attention. Given the circumstances, it was extremely important not to do so.

“I don’t want to threaten you or anything, Henry, but Mark won’t keep quiet if you keep pulling off this bullshit. Didn’t I tell you I want nothing to do with you?”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Then why do you keep following me?”

Henry put down his cutlery. “I missed you. I haven’t talked to you in a long time. I have things to say to you.”

Samantha scoffed. “Even if you did have things to say, it’s too late for me to listen, Henry.”

“Is it really?” Henry turned to her, capturing her gaze. “Are you absolutely sure this guy is not just some bandage for you?”

“Is this why you bought me an engagement ring?”

Henry hesitated.

“You can throw it away or return it. Recycling it on the next girl would be very bad just because you didn’t pull me.”

“Look, Sam,” Henry sighed and brought his hands together. “I admit, I thought I could have you back if I came back into your life. I was selfish and inconsiderate.”

“Are. You are selfish and inconsiderate.”

“Just tell me, it’s all I want to know. I promise I’ll leave you the fuck alone and only see you when we see each other in the hospital hallways.”

“Fine,” Samantha leaned on the table to look him straight in the eye. “I am in love with Mark. He is putting me back together, and he’s healing me after all the shit you put me through. I couldn’t care less if I’m targeted by the media or not because I have him, and that’s all that matters.”

Henry nodded, and his eyes fell to his knees. “I regret ever raising my hand at you. I was stupid and too self-absorbed to know the kind of treasure I had by my side.”

Samantha nodded, too, and pulled the chair back. In the thousand scenarios she made up in her mind of how that kind of conversation would go, she imagined feeling more at peace with herself as if all the lost time would be pouring back. There was no human manner to explain how empty Henry’s apology left her. That’s when she realized that hate was an expensive emotion.

“Is this all?”

Henry chuckled. “Actually, no. You know the attending committee is happening today.”

“I know. And I hope you know who my support is for.”

“There’s an accident that’s happened just now in Jeju and a helicopter picked up two patients for transfer to SMP. The first victim is a female patient, pregnant with twins seven months along, with a severe injury to the head.”

Samantha knew where that was going.

“I’ll gladly pass this up.”

“The other victim is a male patient with severe chest injuries and a broken head, with no immediate identification of brain injury risk. I suppose someone would need to drain some fluid and release his intracranial pressure. Of course this is not an attending level procedure. I recommended Jonathan to operate for the first victim. And, of course, he will need an OBGYN specialist with him to deliver the babies safely. He should have been paged by now.”

Samantha looked at Henry as if she could not understand the words he was speaking. Her pager started beeping too.

“I’d better get ready for surgery, too. I assume Miss Martin is going to be my cardiologist, and I hope we can avoid a pit fight between Jonathan and me.”

“I don’t understand. Why do this?”

Henry rose to his feet just as the emergency signal hit his pager, too. “I’m aware you don’t believe in my words anymore. I hope this will let you know I am not an incurable asshole.”

The delirious acclamations of the fans asking for another encore were still shaking the arena when the boys came backstage at the end of their concert. There was a general frenzy in the group, wide smiles and full laughter mirrored on their expressions. Mark had all the reasons to be happy and hopeful for the future. As promised early in the day, he prepared earnestly to deliver a sincere speech to the audience, announcing he had found his sweetheart. In a solidarity act and more so to display their unwavering support for one another, the members formed a circle around Mark on stage, who could only smile bashfully.

I’m sure many of you have already found out, despite my best wishes, that I have found someone that I cherish with my whole heart.

The stadium burst into a torrent of cheers and screams, all hands brought together to clap for Mark. All of Got7 radiated of gratitude, especially Jackson who had an I told you so expression on his face.

You already know, guys, how much love and respect I have for you and how grateful I am for your support throughout these beautiful years we spent together. I want you to know I’m in good hands now and we are both looking forward to the future. And for this I know that I’ll only continue to grow as an artist and person. I bow to all of you.

“That couldn’t have gone better,” Jackson shook Mark by his shoulders jokingly, then threw an arm around him. “I am thrilled for you, man.”

Jinyoung passed by to pat Mark on the back and met him with a genuine smile of his own.

“Let’s see what’s going on SNS,” Bambam chirped and reached for his phone. “Oh my God, guys, there was a terrible accident in Jeju.”

The boys gathered around Bambam to check the news. Jaebum read the victims’ descriptions scarcely. “They’ve gone to SMP. Look who’s operating on them.”

As Bam scrolled further in the article, Mark noticed that the director of the hospital gave a statement to the press. He described both Samantha and Jonathan as their brightest assets and most priceless talents.

“Oh look, an update came in. Surgery’s done.”

“Do you think it’s live on any news channel?” Youngjae pointed out and sneakily used his credentials to log into the radio station's news portal where he was a moderator. To everyone’s surprise, Samantha was being interviewed live. She was still dressed in her surgical attire, but Mark found her breathtaking nonetheless.

The crowd gathered around the phone. “Turn up the volume!”

“Two patients were brought in by helicopter around 12:30 this afternoon, sustaining grave injuries after an unfortunate accident in Jeju. There was a female patient, 7 months pregnant with twins, who had severe trauma to the head. Doctor Williams and I brought her in for critical tests, and we decided to operate immediately. I am happy to announce that the surgery was successful, and we brought two beautiful boys into the world. It was a bit earlier than expected, but I am doing everything in my capacity to keep them healthy and happy. Doctor Williams saved the mother, and all three of them are out of immediate danger.”

A collective applause could be heard backstage. “Her Korean is so good,” Jinyoung remarked, and Mark felt like the fog between them was clearing little by little.

“Bastards, they are asking her about the dating scandal,” Yugyeom said, and it grabbed everyone’s attention.

“I will only take questions about this family’s situation. I believe that all of us here are professionals, and we should treat the situation as such. I wish to thank everyone for your support in the matter. Another question, please?”

“Get it, girl!” Bambam cheered, and Jackson laughed proudly at the witty answer.

Mark’s lungs deflated with a content sigh.

“Man, I wish I was this cool,” Jaebum chuckled and turned to Mark. “Did you talk about this?”

“Nope. I didn’t tell her what to say. It’s pure skill.”

The rest of the interview went along with medical questions, and Youngjae ended the stream. “Yeah, for real, she’s a star.”

Mark picked up his own phone to dial Samantha’s number. “She truly is.”

“Hey, Mark!”

He picked up a sliver of insecurity in her voice. “Hey beautiful, we caught the interview with the boys. In their own terms, you’re a star.”

Mark allowed her to speak at her own pace. “You think so? I’m scared I messed up shutting them off like that.”

“On the contrary. None of us here could have done better.”

“Damn right we couldn’t!” Bambam shouted in Mark’s ear, making sure his message would come across. “Come on, just put her on speaker!”

Knowing Mark had no way out, he complied with the request. “You’re on speaker, Sam.”

“Oh, come on! I’ve been a celebrity for a day, and I’m already better than you all?”

“Don’t let it get to your head, babe,” Mark laughed, and Jackson chimed in. “You know, Bam asked us a couple of days ago if you have any single girlfriend you might introduce him to.”

Samantha laughed at the expense of Bambam’s embarrassment. “I know who to call first thing then! Lovely chatting with you boys, but I have to go. I need to tend to the twins in the NICU. I’ll text you later, love.”

“Talk to you soon, princess.”

Deeper into the night, when the hectic schedule of the day died down and both surgeries finished with happy endings, Samantha and Leena grasped the chance to take a breather. The two women crowded Leena’s office to enjoy a late-night latte on the balcony.

“Just the thought of me having to tend to the night shift tonight is killing me,” Samantha groaned and leaned against the cold balustrade. “I have six babies to care for, not to mention to monitor the twins 24/7.”

“Didn’t you miss the thrill of this?”

Samantha switched her position to look up to the starry sky. “I did.”

Leena smiled and nudged the other’s hip with her own. “I heard about the interview. You kicked ass!”

The other laughed. “Allegedly. I still don’t know how I came across. Although, being a witch bitch doesn’t sit that wrong with me.”

“If we’re being honest, you’ve always had this aura about yourself.”

“Leena!”

The cardiologist sipped from her cup. “No offense.”

“None taken,” smiled Samantha. “So, you and Jonathan, huh?”

“Oh, shut up about it. I didn’t imagine our first kiss would be like that.”

Samantha leaned closer to Leena. “It was kinda hot.”

“It was! I thought he was dragging me along to have sex, but we got paged.”

“Nah, he would want to make a show out of asking you to be his girlfriend, and then the sex would follow.”

Leena just agreed. “I hope he’d let me prepare. I have a cute lingerie set I saved. We should tell Jo, she would go crazy about this.”

“I completely forgot. Jonathan spoke with her, and she bought two tickets for the concert on Friday.”

Leena gasped with a feigned look on her face. “Did she really not think about inviting me too?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but Jonathan planned something for Friday. She sold the other ticket.”

A white lie, Samantha thought. But it was a good occasion for Jonathan to meet Leena in her special lingerie set.

“It’s time for me to clock out. I’m exhausted,” spoke Leena while stretching her back. “I’ll call Jo tomorrow myself.”

As Leena left the office, Samantha quickly texted Jonathan to announce his newly made plans to him. While the phone was buzzing with Jonathan’s messages, she dialed Jo. It did not take long for her to pick up, with an ecstatic voice.

“Last time I saw you, you were gearing up to be a surgeon, and now you’re a celebrity girlfriend!”

“Missed you too, Jo,” Samantha countered with a chuckle. “Quite a lot has happened since we spoke last. Is this a bad time?”

“No, dear, I just finished a meeting with a client. You know it’s morning over here in Manhattan.”

Samantha checked her watch. It should have been early 9 AM for Jo. “You’re flying out here Friday and you didn’t bother to tell us in due time?”

Jo laughed at the other end of the line. “You know me, I love surprises. I’ll be 6 months in Seoul, and we have plenty of time to catch up! I’m going to work on a digital branding initiative with a big skincare company, and they paid pretty money for me to join them there. I rented a place close to yours, thanks to Johnny.”

“I take it you’re a millionaire now, are you not?”

“I’m not too shabby, I’d say.”

The women laughed heartily.

“I missed you, Sam. Can’t wait for us to catch up. Especially about your new lover.”

“Never beating around the bush, huh Jo?” chuckled Samantha.

“You know, maybe you could introduce me to Jackson while we’re at it. I’m kidding, of course.”

Samantha’s pager beeped; the medical team requested her presence in the NICU. “Mhm, might fuck around and kiss Jackson kind of kidding?”

“Come on, honey. You know I am a serious businesswoman.”

Friday came as a surprise to Samantha. She felt as if the rest of the week had passed at the speed of light. She took a well-deserved day off to sleep in and relax properly in the morning for a long, incoming night. Even if the paparazzi were faithfully waiting to catch a glimpse of her while walking Murphy, she paid less attention to them and more to her little guy. Samantha remembered Mark's words; it would not get easier, but she would grow accustomed to the unwanted notoriety. She thought they would have to get bored with her at some point.

Samantha prepared a quick lunch and played an episode of a podcast she liked to try to forget that she did not have appropriate clothes for a concert. Since joining the SMP, she had switched her entire wardrobe to formal and office attire. A long-forgotten box of clothes lay in the attic, and she hoped she would find some decent jeans and a blouse. Samantha was satisfied to find a vintage pair of ripped jeans and a glittery pink crop corset. She paired the corset with a crop black transparent bolero to cover her arms. She ultimately decided against heels and removed her black Air Jordan from an adjacent box. 

Just as Samantha finished touching up her loose curls, the phone buzzed with a call.

"Jo, what's up? I'm almost ready."

"Almost ready?!" Jo almost screamed on the other line. "Sam, I'm first in line. To enter the stadium."

"You're crazy. The concert is two hours away from starting."

"You're the crazy one," Jo retorted matter-of-factly. "There's already hundreds of people queuing up behind me."

"Yikes," Samantha laughed. "I'm leaving soon; I'll get there pretty fast, I think."

"It looks like the boys finished their sound check, and they are letting people enter. I'll make sure to get the best spot!"

"When did you even get ready? Didn't you fly in like... three hours ago?"

Jo laughed. "There are many things you can do in a 15-hour flight. I made sure to fly premium to use the cup holders for my makeup."

By the time Samantha arrived, the queue had certainly grown longer than when she spoke to Jo on the phone. She was lucky the venue personnel were professionals, and the queue moved quickly on all six entrances. The stubborn sun would have otherwise ruined her hair and make-up with its warmth. When she finally entered the stadium, she was surprised to find various chairs prepared at key points of the area to rest and enjoy the concert. The suggestive map at the entrance helped her move around fast and find her designated area.

It was not hard to spot Jo in the crowd. A carmine corset hugged her torso, and the endearing side cuts starting at the thigh on her straight-leg fabric trousers left just enough space for the imagination to kick in. Her gingerbread hair, pulled into a ponytail, outlined all her defined features. 

"If you planned to seduce any of the single members tonight, you have a high chance of success. With the eyeliner and the red lipstick, I would make out with you now."

Jo turned around at the familiar voice and pulled Samantha into a hug. "You think so? Maybe the corset was a bit too much?"

"You wouldn't have it any other way."

Jo gestured for Samantha to do a pirouette so she could admire her friend in her entirety. "You are so pretty! I missed you so much, Sam. And look, just as I promised, we can breathe in their perfume here!"

Indeed, as Jo pointed out, the two women were inches away from the main stage. Samantha was confident that she would grab Mark's attention and at least make a heart for him.

"How are you? How's life in Manhattan? I swear you just dropped off the face of the planet."

 "I'm sorry," Jo took Samantha by the hand and brought her closer to the metal prompt where her carmine office jacket was. True to her image, "The last couple of months were absolutely insane for my firm. I booked in 5-figure contracts and brought many people to the team. I was drowning to do it all alone. My dream is coming along pretty well."

Samantha squeezed her hand. "I'm so happy for you. I can't wait to see what seeds you bring to life."

"We have all the time in the world now," Jo smiled. "How are you, girl? I think you finally found your happy place here."

Samantha nodded. "I think so, too. There's a big chance I'll become an attending soon. And I think I finally found someone after my own heart."

A loud, rhapsodic noise broke into the arena when all lights suddenly turned down to cue the band's entrance to the stage. "I booked a table at Timber House after the concert to catch up and drink to the morning, just like we used to do."

Samantha agreed with the other's proposition and turned her attention to the stage. All the boys were dressed in deluxe concert attire. Samantha's eyes immediately found Mark. He was excited but collected, happy but professional. His eyes were refreshed, and he had a beautiful vitality about him.

I am coming home tonight, love. Just one more stop.

"You're home," Samantha whispered as the music started playing and the concert kicked off.

The atmosphere was simply dynamic. All the fans in the venue cheered tirelessly to show their support for the band. Jo and Samantha had a great time together, dancing and singing their hearts out to the music. The first half of the concert passed in the blink of an eye, and a small costume break was due for the second part. To keep the spirit alive, Jackson rejuvenated the full stadium. "How are we doing tonight, Seoul city?"

An outburst of joy saturated the arena.

"This is Page."

"Oh, this is my favorite song of theirs!" Jo cheered and indulged in the warmth of the concert lights. 

Now that they could see better into the crowd, all the boys got closer to the fans. They pointed to funny banners in the crowd, got closer to take selfies with the fans, and spread their joy to the depths of the stadium. Mark got closer to where Jo and Samantha were and shared smiles and waves everywhere, but his mouth dropped in surprise. The all-familiar figure shared a hand-shaped heart with him, making him laugh. Samantha was, too, while grooving to the music.

Mark lost no time to run down from the stage into the crowd where his lover was. She looked so different in her laid-back attire, cheerful in pink, with a beam that could light up his whole world. Except she already did. Jo lost no time to get out her phone and prepare it for what was to become the best picture she had ever taken. Samantha was unprepared for the passionate hug Mark pulled her into, so bare and so bold in front of sixty thousand people, to declare their young love once and for all.   

"I think I love you," Mark whispered along to Jackson's verse. He touched Samantha's face gently to pull her into a kiss, and a white spotlight now protected their love. As the boys realized what was happening, they gathered around the part of the stage where the couple was; Bambam and Yugyeom were taking their picture from all possible angles, Jaebum was singing his verse, and Jinyoung playfully interrupted their moment.

"Mark, you have to sing your part now."

And Mark sang his part, looking into his lover's eyes, his hand holding tightly onto hers. It was safe to say Samantha was as proud as she was embarrassed. Before leaving, Mark left a loving peck on her cheek and reluctantly departed from her to return to the stage. Most members cheerfully spread to other parts of the arena; only Jackson trailed behind. 

To the untrained eye, Jackson seemed to be waiting to reunite with Mark. To Jo's eyes, he seemed enthralled by her feminine aura and by the alluring glint in her mahogany irises. The woman gave him a playful wink and a graceful smile, and she could swear he returned the favor. It was further clarified when Jackson returned to the same part of the stage to sing his next verse while stealing glances at Samantha's mysterious friend. When the song finally ended, and a rupture of applause echoed in the stadium, Jo turned to Samantha.

"You will not believe how beautiful these pictures are!"

"What just happened?" Samantha was still confused about Mark's sudden daring gesture, so she wrapped her friend in a hug.

"I am so ecstatic for you, Sam! This was so fucking romantic."

"Listen, am I delirious, or did Jackson wink at you?"

Jo looked at the stage as the boys prepared their free speech segment.

"I am sure he did 'cause I did it first."

Samantha smirked at her friend and turned her attention to the group. Bambam was the first to speak.

"Mark, you should have warned us we would be full of love tonight!"

Jackson looked at Bambam more closely and started laughing. Yugyeom pointed that out to him. "It was too much love that his zipper broke."

"It's not our first time, don't worry," Jinyoung continued. The group gathered around to shield Bambam and tie his jacket around his waist. 

Jackson made sure his microphone was further away from his mouth and leaned over to Mark. "Who's the lady with Sam over there?"

"I've never met her. She mentioned a friend from the States was coming over to Seoul for a while. It could be her."

The leader heard their conversation, and Jackson anticipated that he would possibly make a joke on the matter. Jackson laughed and pleaded with his eyes.

"We're set now," Bambam broke the moment, and Jaebum was happy to skip away. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

A loud and almost angry What inconvenience? scream came from the audience, causing the group to snicker. The seven men formed a line to salute the crowd and do their intro. 

"Now that we all witnessed this beautiful moment," Jaebum started, "I'm sure Mark would like to say some words."

"I'm sure Mark wouldn't," he joked, and Samantha giggled. "There's no turning back now, I guess."

Similar to what the group did in Japan, the boys gathered around Mark, who cleared his throat.

"First things first, we're happy to be back here in Seoul," Mark said, waiting for the cheers to subside. Personally, I'm very happy to be back here, back to the person who stole my heart and ran away with it."

Mark pointed in Samantha's direction, and the latter funneled her hands around her mouth to reply. "I'm right here, Mark!"

The members approved joyfully.

"So, uh," Mark continued with a satisfied smile, "I hope you'll treat us well and cheer for us in the future. We've all been together through the good and bad, and I hope you'll keep us in your prayers from now on, too. As Jinyoung once said, we did not come together to release an album. We decided to release an album to be together. And I don't know what else could speak more about the family that we are."

The concert ended in high spirits, with the energy growing by the minute until it reached its peak and kept on going to the end. The two women were escorted by security backstage, where the group retreated. They witnessed a celebration more intimate than the one prepared by the fans onstage for Mark's upcoming birthday early the following week. Jinyoung noticed the women and silently guided them closer to the group, where Mark and the lovely cake were. Jo remained in the back between Jinyoung and Jackson, and the boys made way for Samantha to get closer to her lover. 

"That was an amazing concert, guys," Jo congratulated the group, not addressing anyone in particular; another person speaking fluent Korean took Jinyoung and Jackson by surprise. "I am not sure you know how fast those tickets were selling, but I am happy I got them."

Bambam once again assumed the role of the photographer when Mark swept Samantha off her feet to hug and cherish her. Jackson's attention was captured by the mysterious woman, and could not help but notice the jasmine scent she wore.

"Thank you," Jackson offered and turned her body to her. "Yours was a pleasant surprise, too."

Jo noticed the subtlety and gave back a smile. She did not manage to reply as Mark and Samantha approached them. "Where are my manners?" Samantha said and gestured to her friend. "This is Jo."

Jo dipped her head in a bow, keeping her stature composed. The way she carried herself was that of a woman confident in her femininity. It did not go unnoticed by Jinyoung how Jackson looked at her. Mark caught it as well.

"She is going to be with us for the next six months. At least."

Jo chuckled. "It's nice meeting everyone. We'll see where life gets us, eventually."

Mark cleared his throat. "Do you want to go anywhere to celebrate? It's on me. It's been a while since we got together like this."

"Jo booked a table at a very nice restaurant in town."

"I don't think it's suitable for so many of us, but I will call immediately to request additional chairs."

"Tell you what," Jinyoung deftly moved over to Bambam, who was puzzled by the other's subtle silencing words, "Since we're all going to be in Seoul for a while, and for Mark's birthday as well, we can plan and rent something nice in the city. Let's give the lovebirds the night off."

Jo looked at Samantha with a serene expression. "I completely agree."

Jaebum was in on Jinyoung's plan. "But if it was your reservation, why not go together? Jackson can hop in to be the second third-wheel."

Bambam's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Jackson did not manage to protest, or otherwise, when he realized he had become the center of a quickly executed plot. He recognized the guys were fighting against their worst demons not to burst out laughing.

"It sounds like a plan," Jo turned to Jackson, knowing she had reeled him in when she met him with her charming smile.

"Sure, let's change into something more comfortable."

[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More(M) - Seven

(Writer's message)Hello everyone, Merry Christmas!! In the spirit of GOT7 returning to our hearts and to the stage I wanted to return to this story and try to finish it. It often happens that I get inspiration every once in a while, so I might have a writing boost these next couple of days. There's much I fantasize about in my head but I'll make no promises. Enjoy the last few days of the year in the Christmas spirit <3

~6k words, implication of sex, romance, hurt/comfort

If you leave this time, I'll feel that you be gone for good So, I'll hold on like leaves in Fall to what is left

It seems that all the autumn leaves are falling I feel like you're the only reason for it...

"Break up with her? What are you even talking about?"

Jonathan looked at Jackson with a disapproving look and almost made a leap into the room if it wasn't for Samantha's acknowledging look. "Did you break up with her?"

Mark's eyes darted back and forth between Jonathan and Jackson. The latter couldn't have chosen a worse time to barge in. Still, Mark straightened his back protectively, shielding the woman from the inquiring looks of the crowd. Truth be told, he was ashamed of himself at how quickly he chose to give up on Samantha, that he instigated that situation himself. He felt the need to make up for the doubts and for the lost time, more so after standing up to Henry's antics.

"No, Jackson, why are you here?"

"I don't have time to explain," after taking his phone out of the jacket, Jackson showed it to Mark. In a hurried motion, Mark took it out of Jackson's hand, understanding the situation right away. "We need to catch that plane, you know?"

It did not mean the position Samantha was in those photos was any less hurtful, even though those men in the pictures should have been well outside of her romantic life. Mark instinctively glanced at Jonathan. The way Samantha's head was leaning against his shoulder, both in motorcycle attire opposite their bikes, in an otherwise peaceful setting, irked him. It also goes without saying that the additional picture where she was kissing the bartender was the cherry on top. Which he never knew about.

At the end of the gallery, the pictures capturing some of the most beautiful moments between Mark and Samantha were displayed: their longing goodbyes at either of their houses, the joyful smiles of the park outing, and him seeing her off at his group's office building. Samantha was watching Mark's finger as he slid between the pictures, the soft skin of her lower lip quickly drenching in blood from the cruelty of her teeth.

"They are going to crucify me," the woman stated matter-of-factly, driving both Leena and Jonathan to demand an explanation.

"Mark will need to make a statement, one way or another." Jackson copied her tone, his attention towards her. "Out of experience, you should not speak to them, nor make any social media post, nothing."

Samantha turned to Mark. "Shouldn't I defend myself?! I am trying to go back to surgery; this is going to effectively shut down all the career I've built."

Mark handed the phone back to Jackson, his other hand sliding away from Samantha's body. He knew all the strict surveillance of the Korean media, the scrutiny of the public, and the haunting chance of destroying the reputations of not only him but his group as well. At the other end of the line, it was Samantha's image and credibility within her professional field. The sun felt like it would shy away from the grey of the clouds only to run away into the void again.

He should have been more careful.

Mark cupped Samantha's cheek to lay a peck on her lips and bring their foreheads together. Beyond feeling baited into what the paparazzi wanted them to feel, he recognized she needed him to be strong for the both of them. Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose, albeit hiding his proud smile. That was when Jonathan knew Samantha was no longer in his reach.

"Do you trust me?"

Samantha grasped his wrist with the faintest of a nod.

"I'll call very soon, okay?"

Mark brought his head to her temple, whispering something inaudible to the assisting public. He then pulled apart, gesturing to Jackson that they would leave. The boys stopped before Jonathan and Leena, with Mark measuring the blonde in a split of a moment.

"I know you both care about each other. The security of the hospital will need to be alerted for forced paparazzi entrance; this is going to be published very soon. Can you take care of her while I'm gone?"

Jonathan scoffed as he watched the two singers walk away hurriedly. "Bet I will."

"We'll make a statement saying you two are acquaintances. We'll come up with the verbiage at a later time."

Everyone was gathered towards the center of the business class, with Mark suffering the protagonist role against his better wishes. Jackson was leaning against the backrest of Mark's seat, assuming somewhat of a defensive stance to face their managers' alarmed looks. Their leader was having a private conversation with one of the managers to discuss the PR strategy, and Jinyoung was impassable.

"So you went in to break up with her, but you didn't," Bambam started. "I never expected you to, and you didn't. And I am very proud of that."

Jinyoung simply scoffed.

"Then he kissed her, you know? That was a statement. So what if they have these pictures? We're not 18 anymore to stalk for exes." Yugyeom continued, agreeing with the other.

Jackson shifted his position, towering taller over the backrest. "To be honest, I have complete faith in our fans. I strongly feel they would not judge nor belittle us. Sooner or later, it would have come out anyway."

Jinyoung kept silent.

"Jinyoung?" said Jackson. "Your silence is scary."

"You know what," Jinyoung retorted, sitting up from his chair. "I support you." Shushing the members with a finger. "I'm serious. Whatever you decide to do, I'm 100% behind you. If this makes you happy, I'm happy, even though I already said this. It's unanimous to say we're behind you in this."

After leaving everyone else with their mouths hanging open, Jinyoung returned to reading his book peacefully.

While Jaebum and their manager were returning from the far end of the isle, Mark was quietly thanking Jinyoung for his lead. As skeptical as Jinyoung was, he never had to be explicit about wishing the best for one another. As was everyone.

"Damn, I expected to come back to some tension in the air," Jaebum chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood. "We discussed an initial scenario to keep out allegations--"

"It's simple. I am going to say she's my girlfriend."

There was a collective mix of reactions, from cheering to shock to content, the group had it all. Ultimately, the leader stepped away, giving Jackson a well-deserved high five.

"Mark, it's not that simple." Their manager stepped up to drive the conversation forward. "You have to give a careful statement."

Mark acknowledged his words. "And my careful statement would be that she is my girlfriend. We can use whatever formulation you think would be best, with this main idea in mind."

"Okay, let's assume for a moment we are doing that. What statement will she give about those pictures, with a considerable variety of men?"

In the heat of the moment, Mark opened his mouth to counter his manager's arguments in advance and understood that he ultimately had no arguments himself. Jonathan, he knew about. It was evident that something had happened in their past together, and the blonde hadn't managed to grow over his feelings for her. Then there was Henry.

Any statement would have meant throwing them under the bus. If there was anything Mark learned about Samantha was that she wouldn't throw people under the bus for her sake. No matter who it was.

"Let's work on something that would not defame anyone involved."

The conclusion of their conversation was left up for grabs. As everyone was scattered around to their own businesses, be it playing, reading, or simply chattering around, Mark changed seats to meet Jinyoung. He noticed Mark with the corner of his eye and put the book he was reading to the side.

"Thank you," stated Mark simply. "Means a lot, having my back."

"I was sincere with what I said. Even if I didn't always agree with what was going on. I reminded myself that you wouldn't go through all of this if it wasn't worth it."

Mark chuckled.

"Do you love her?"

"I do." nodded Mark and brought one knee closer to his chest to lean against. "I love her."

"Does she love you?"

"I think so, yes."

Jinyoung picked up his book and finally displayed a pleased smile.

"Good for you."

Later that night, Samantha entered an emergency surgery to deliver a pair of twins. Hands were moving on autopilot while mind was racing at an unthinkable speed. How she coordinated the medical team to a tee, even when feeling so tense, only added to her tension. When the surgery finally came to an end, Samantha left the operating room hurriedly, heading for her private office. The entire picture came tumbling down.

Mark was a celebrity, a public figure. What did she think was going to happen? Did she think she would have a soft pass? A hail Mary? And what if she had a Hail Mary? Would she have been better off with it?

Hard no everywhere.

Samantha sighed. Suddenly, all those frozen moments in digital representations came to life vividly. When Changwook lifted her up against the bar counter in a fervid kiss, the intoxication of gin and vodka was still muddling the air. Shortly after Samantha came to Korea, evading and hiding away from the humiliation and despair Henry put her through, her cousin's club allured her into a sweet fantasy. Drink pouring after drink after dance after faceless men—she never knew Changwook was working there at that time. A tall, handsome, foreign male who was there at the right place, wrong time. She was destined to face an uncomfortable situation during her first shift at said club.

Another dirty case of memory was the exotic vacation with Henry in the tropical islands, enjoying the sun and the love. Samantha felt still the warmth of turquoise waters sliding through her fingers and the elusive touches of a man she once knew. She laughed at the prospect of a time so far in existence that it lost all meaning to matter.

And Jonathan, oh him. In the exceptional that never happened, there was a golden smile with champagne hair and meadow eyes.

"Hey." A faint knock echoed, revealing Leena's figure. "I came to ask if you're okay."

Samantha shrugged her shoulders with a defeated smile. "As okay as I can be, I guess."

Leena seated herself to Samantha's right. "There's a half-full part of the glass always. Congrats for you and Mark!"

Despite Leena's attempt to bring a note of optimism, the other's face was troubled. "I know you saw the pictures, Leena. I have so many things to account for," Samantha turned her face to her friend. "To you, too."

"I know Jonathan loves you".

Samantha cusped her hands together.

"I also know how hard he's working to accept it. There's a quote I read somewhere; that the one thing we can control is how to love someone, not what they do with the love we give to them. I don't think there's something that better describes John".

She nodded, then continued. John, she thought. He's a different man to her than he was to me.

"You must be thinking you made me feel like the second woman. Sometimes, I do, other times I don't. Someday he'll accept the answer. I don't think he loves you the way he loves me, and I know for a fact he does love me".

"I think so too, saying it out loud just makes me feel like an asshole".

Leena chuckled. "I can say it for you if you want".

And Samantha gestured for her to go ahead. If you don't rip the bandaid, you never allow the wound to heal.

"You hurt his feelings and his ego when you chose Henry over him," Leena caught the shimmer of surprise in the other's eyes. "It's true that I only know his half of the story. He always thought you'd be his college sweetheart".

"Did he say this to you?"

"Oh, he did. We had plenty of heart-to-hearts lately. Even though I was inclined to say Henry triggered his actions, I now know it was Mark who did".

In the exceptional that was happening, there was a radiant smile with copper hair and amber eyes.

"He told me you have a bet but didn't tell me what that was. Said it's your story to tell".

"Since Jo wanted a two-people dare, two-people dare it is!" one of the boys in the group cheered, raising a toast with another shot of tequila in the air. "What's the dare, Jo?"

"The first card we flip will give a striptease dance to the next card!"

Another loud cheer reverberated through the room. Between a dozen eager, tipsy young adults, such vulgar propositions made them ecstatic. Amongst them, a younger Samantha, accompanied by Jonathan, Henry, and Jo, the four were in their feelings. A long midterm and a good drink would do that to them.

"Flip the cards!"

Samantha seemed to be less enthusiastic when her queen of cards showed up chaperoned by Jonathan's king of spades. It wasn't long before short hoots and whistles echoed in the fraternity room and quickly dissipated in the rowdy atmosphere.

Among the group, there was no secret Samantha was regarded as a high-value prize, even in their larger sophomore-year group. In a smaller setting, both Henry and Jonathan were chasing the same woman. Jonathan transferred at the beginning of that year and had no major trouble integrating into the group, notably having a larger affinity for Samantha. Henry was a year older than the group and met the same girl via their shared sports club, in which Samantha was the captain of the volleyball club.

Jonathan had the opportunity to score a much more definite chance than his opponent. He sealed his eyes with Samantha's, who, for the first time took a drawn-out look at the blonde counterpart.

"I'm down if you're down," Jonathan dragged out, slowly peeling off the floor.

"Come on Sam, you're no coward, are you?" Jo taunted, watching the scene with a lot of interest. Samantha untied her hair from the bun she was wearing, messy hair outlining her face. As the latter prepared another shot of tequila to strengthen herself, Jo gestured for everyone else to get lost on the dance floor. Henry rose reluctantly, even as he easily found another girl to occupy himself with, his eyes were earnestly watching Samantha.

With just the two of them left in crumbles of intimacy under piercing eyes, Jonathan stepped closer to Samantha, bursting out in a torrent of chuckles, dubbed by the woman's own giggles.

She smiled an alluring smile that captured a string of Jonathan's heart, "What are we even doing?"

"I believe I am supposed to be dangling my ass on you or something like that," she replied, taking Jonathan by the hand and dragging him to the dancefloor. The man followed her lead, a smirk growing larger on his features.

"If you don't want to do this, you don't have to. I don't want to force you into anything," Jonathan completed, allowing Samantha to get closer to him, her back pressing into his chest. He understood her message and rested his hands on her upper hips.

"I appreciate myself a respectful guy," She leaned her head against his shoulder, extending her torso to speak into his ear to counter the loud music, "You don't have to be respectful now".

Just as Samantha started curling her body, Jonathan felt the alcohol in his veins mix up with the unorthodox desire to lower his hands. "Even with all these eyes watching us?"

A small pause until Samantha turned around to face Jonathan, one hand pushing into his chest. Her eyes harvested a cunning feline glance. "Let them".

Jonathan reached closer to the woman, noses brushing against one another before Jonathan whispered in her ear, "I'd rather watch you on my own".

Samantha circled her arms around his neck, head tilting back in intimate laughter. Henry felt his own blood boiling at the passionate scenery. "If you planned to turn me on, you're successful".

Jonathan reciprocated her laughter. "You're giving me a boner, might as well do something to turn you on". He brought her closer to his chest, opting to take her lead. He would have devoured her laughter with his lips if it was for him, including Samantha adding to the friction between their bodies.

"Perhaps we could continue our conversation in a more private setting," suggested Jonathan, wrapping his arm around her waist to guide her through the crowd to a separate part of the building, where he had the key to his room. Jonathan's chamber was tidy and bright, all his belongings put in their respective place.

"It feels like you premeditated this" teased Samantha, her finger tracing the cover of a John Steinbeck classic.

Jonathan closed the door behind them, turning the key into the lock. The way he knew all their friends, an unpleasant surprise could have happened at any time. Maybe if his mind was a little more sober, he would have remembered Jo was especially keen on a threesome.

"Not even close. Believe me, I never fathomed I would lock myself up with you here when this night started."

Samantha chuckled. "You're not drunk enough if you're using such fancy words".

"I'm not drunk enough to commit to ripping your clothes off right now".

Jonathan drew closer to the girl, taking his time to admire the rose hue in her cheeks. Even so, her smile only suggested she'd grown more bashful.

"Why not?" she challenged. "Are you a virgin?"

Jonathan laughed. "I'm not. I just don't picture myself as a brute," as Samantha laughed, he lifted up her left hand to place a kiss on the inside of her wrist. "Are you?"

She shook her head, gliding her hand to Jonathan's nape. Blonde strands of hair felt silky against her fingertips and a sigh departed from her lips. "I'm just hesitant".

"Tell me why. Maybe I could ease your mind".

Using his other arm, Jonathan traced a faint line with the back of his hand on the skin of her neck, leaving agonizing shivers in his wake. Met with no objections, he slid his fingers under the red material of her sweatshirt to feel the goosebumps on her collarbone. The man kept to himself the indisputable fact that Samantha was not wearing any top piece of lingerie.

Samantha was closing the distance between their bodies with her right hand playing at the rim of Jonathan's jeans. She deliberately attached her pelvis to Jonathan's, fully enjoying the appetite of their height difference.

"My humble experience tells me pretty boys like you are not ready to be personal with one girl only".

"I was ready since I first laid eyes on you".

The girl scoffed. In a swift motion, she unpeeled herself from Jonathan to undress herself from the annoying sweater. Samantha was admittedly impressed that Jonathan's eyes never went lower from her eyes, even if the boner he courageously pointed out was still there.

"Don't know if you're sincere or just stubborn," she completed, encircling her arms around his neck once more. Jonathan inhaled a sharp breath at the smell of her skin and simply adored the sheepish pretend look in her eyes while her visage communicated anything but.

It was clear as day that Samantha was offering herself up on a silver platter while testing his guts, knowing it could slide away any second. Perhaps that was the moment Jonathan fell for her.

"Tell you what," countered Jonathan, broad hands gripping the small of her back. The muscles twitched under his touch. "Let's make a bet".

"Oh? What do you have in mind, Jonathan?"

There was something so obscene in the way she breathed his name that it took all his might to oppose the raw longing to consume her lips. Instead, he imprisoned the back of her head with a sensual flicker of hand and protected her lower back with his other. He took her approving moan as stimuli to move forward with his proposition.

"I will not kiss you until you decide to kiss me. And when you finally will, I will date you with the intention of marrying you".

"That's stupid, playing out Pretty Woman like this" she laughed while unbuckling his belt. Jonathan restrained her movements, forcing her eyes to look at him.

"I'm serious. I will show you that us having sex now will not stop me from winning you".

"What makes you so sure you are going to win me over?"

Jonathan picked her swiftly off the ground in his arms and forced Samantha to circle her legs around his waist. He seated himself on top of her in the softness of the bed, his physique towering protectively over her.

"On the one hand, you didn't deny we are going to have sex now".

Jonathan threw his own T-shirt somewhere in the corner of the room.

"On the other hand, I'm sure I am not like the other boys who were in your life".

Samantha watched his every action with awe and a rapid beating in her chest. As much as she offered herself to him, he proudly accepted her with the freedom of her actions. She suddenly felt shy and angled her face away from him. Jonathan noticed and lowered his head to mildly bite into her neck. "Don't play coy with me now, Sam. Are you accepting this bet? Tell me before I undo your jeans because I don't know if I'll let you go after that".

"Up until recently, it had been the best sex of my life," settled Samantha through short melancholic nods of the head.

Leena smiled, accepting the intricate past between Samantha and Jonathan as it was. "Then why let him go? Why choose Henry over him?"

"In the mirage of youth, most of us tend to fall to illusions. Henry spoke fairer and almost always told me what I needed to hear. He never was unfaithful to me nor treated himself with too much superiority. If you ask me now, I don't know the answer to that. Jonathan was, is, more raw. I didn't know how to treat such a man before, even if I knew in my heart he never let me go entirely. He dated other girls while we were in college, he and Jo had a good thing going on for a while. At some point, she told me there was a 1% of him with one foot out".

"Because of you," Leena followed, and it was her turn to lower her eyes and aim them at her hands.

"Because of me. Gosh, I feel like a whore now, but I wanted you to have the full picture".

Leena picked up the remorse in Samantha's voice. Beyond that, she was thankful. "To tell you the truth, John had already told me this. I lied".

Samantha laughed as if the entire pressure on her heart just dissipated. She suspected as such yet felt the need to leave the past in the past and the tension out of her chest. Leena was a good one in all she did, and most of what she did recently to support Samantha through the tumult of past days. "You needed your confirmation, I know. I would have done the same".

Leena wrapped her arms around Samantha, and the both of them let out a weighty sigh. "I will forever be grateful for what Jonathan did for me, and part of me will always love him like a close confidant. We both know our train left the station long ago. I just hope he's not stupid while your train is still here".

"Between you and I," Leena said, "I sure as hell hope he's not. I saw him in sweatpants a couple of days ago, and girl, let me tell you a thing or two".

The atmosphere eased into laughter, and Samantha hugged the other woman tighter. "I'm so lucky to have you, Leena".

In the pocket of her doctor's coat, Samantha's phone started vibrating. The two girls pulled away, and Leena stood up when she noticed Mark's name on the luminous screen.

"Hey princess, is this a good time?"

There was static noise combined with loud background music on Mark's end of the line. He must have been in the concert venue. It took her aback to listen to Mark's voice so calm and so certain when speaking to her. Like the world was their cradle and nothing else mattered in the world.

"Hey Mark. Yes, I just got out of surgery. I brought twins into this world today".

Samantha felt the remnants of the smile Mark was wearing on the other end of the line. "That's amazing, you're amazing, love. I'm sure the parents must be very happy."

Love. Undoubtedly, that was the first time he ever called her that. An abrupt avalanche of the past day's memories collapsed over Samantha, the blending of agony over ecstasy over fear, of belated forgiveness and let-go's. Somehow, Mark rose above everything, wearing his radiant smile. With love.

After a short pause, his voice echoed as if it transcended from a faraway land, "How are you holding up?"

"It's a lot," confessed Samantha. "I don't know how I led the medical team in the OR. My head was spinning with everything going on."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"What could you possibly be sorry for, Mark?"

"I'm sorry for not protecting you the way you needed me to."

It was the same sensation she lived the very first time they shared a smile, the bed, and their intimacy. He carried the same striking transparency, that of a glass shining in the bleak midwinter when the sole beam of sunshine found that one last refuge. Come to think of it, most of their visceral conversations happened on a phone line. A hundred times easier to hide the unseen through the deceit of the voice when the eyes cannot find the sensitivity of the soul and the arms cannot hug away the uncertainty.

What use was there to keep on lying when the mask fell and shattered into a million pieces?

"I'm sorry for daring to give up on you. I'm sorry for being selfish and for putting myself first. There are so many things I wish I told you tonight, Sam."

"You haven't lost me, dearest. Not tonight."

The echo of an exhale could be heard on the other end of the line.

"When the news breaks out, I want to make a statement. And I will tell them you are my girlfriend".

Samantha's shock could be palpable through the phone call. "What? I mean, shouldn't you not associate yourself with me? Won't that ruin your image?"

Mark inhaled a great amount of air before replying. "I plan to make you forget about that ex. In truth, I loved the idea of you overthinking all your texts. And I wanted all your neighbors to hear you yell when we make love. I don’t want it to be a problem when we come together. And I don’t want us a secret. This is the shittiest time to ask, but will you have me? Will you be my girlfriend?"

In retrospect, Samantha would have seen Mark's confession coming from a mile away. All the possible hints he could have dropped, he did. In the little time they spend together, hurriedly, sneakily, and intensively, Mark changed her world the very first time they crossed paths. What Samantha grew to nurture for him did not carry a name but still felt like a Mediterranean breeze caressing the surface of the ocean, akin to the warmth of the summer morning.

"Yes, I will be your girlfriend," Samantha smiled and instinctively touched the back of her neck, where Mark's favorite spot to hold her was.

"Good. Good. I can totally make that statement now," he laughed, and her heart eased into his serenity. "We have a lot to tell each other I think, when I'm back".

"We do, we do indeed. I talked to Leena today, about Jonathan".

"Oh? And? Are they going out now, as they should?"

She snickered. "They had an obstacle until now. Me."

"Oh, I know. Figured as much."

"How did you--?"

Before she had the chance to continue, Mark interfered. "I am a man, Sam. And not a blind one at that. Is he better in bed than me? Wait actually, don't answer that."

They both laughed.

"Out of the kindness of my heart, I'll let you know he is not".

"Ah, I figured as much 'cause I refused to tell him when he asked. I kinda got the gist back then. But now, seriously, what's in the past is in the past. What matters now is that you are in my present, and I hope in my future, too".

"We can't know that, Mark."

"I know. I know you don't like all these plotted plans. I'll work as hard as I need to make us work. To give you what you need. If we're meant to be, we'll be, but I don't want to regret never trying."

The moon was lurking out into the dusk, leaving traces of stars in its wake. In his words, Samantha heard what Mark whispered at their parting.

I love you too.

In the barren parking lot of the SMP hospital, the hazy contours of two motorcycles still governed the vast space. A well-known silhouette of a man stood amongst the night shadows, casting tamed lights from the clicking and unclicking of a zipper lighter.

"Thought you would have rushed home after today, Johnatan."

"What about you, then?" a smirk appeared in the corner of the man's mouth. "I am in no position to add to your future scandal right now."

Samantha laughed loudly. "Why wait for me, then? Go on, get lost."

The loud click of the zipper captured the woman's attention. "Figured that if we're raising a storm, might as well ride the waves."

"That we are, my friend."

Samantha dropped her bag next to the motorcycle to take out her biking gear. Jonathan put on his protective helmet, as he was already equipped for the ride.

"Jo called me today."

"Really? How is she doing?" chirped the woman, happy to hear any news about their old friend.

Jonathan kicked off his engine. "Follow me to find out more."

Samantha heeded the invitation and rode out to follow Jonathan soon after he departed from the parking lot. The autumn air welcomed a gust that brushed against open neck skin. Jonathan's riding style had always been elegant but rushed, comparable to its owner - it always reminded Samantha of those blurry colored lines in the Hollywood movies when the night traffic melted under the car lights. She smiled even if Jonathan didn't know; he was made of Hollywood material.

Following a short period on the offroad roads of the suburbs, Jonathan led Samantha up a hill, which enclosed a good part of the city and led to the unwinding of the imagination. Summer heat was still present in the air as if making its last stand against the autumnal chill. Samantha followed Jonathan's figure and left her motorcycle next to his under a tree. He seated himself on a patch of grass, giving the woman a helping hand to follow.

"Okay, so, Jo," Samantha continued as she crossed her legs next to Jonathan. "What's up?"

"She said she's flying out to Seoul in two weeks' time; she has some long-term project here as creative director for some big initiative, I couldn't remember the names she told me. I gave her your phone number 'cause she didn't have it, and she said she bought two front-row tickets for the Got7 final concert here."

Samantha nodded her head. If Jo had called her during any other time, she would have taken the ticket in a heartbeat. She was not so sure she would anymore.

"Assuming she was not asking me to come with her and that you are not scared to go, that ticket was too expensive to pass."

"I don't know, Jonathan. Last thing I want is to be sliced to death during a Got7 concert because I had men in my life before Mark."

"Auch," he joked, and Samantha turned to him apologetically.

"I didn't mean it like that."

Jonathan's eyes were focused on the veil of darkness over the city. "This was the first place we rode to when we transferred here, do you remember? I thought I'd kiss you here back then."

Samantha followed his eyes into the far away. "I do. You led me here then, just as you did now."

"I don't think we should come here alone anymore."

She nodded her head once more. "We shouldn't."

"I told Leena we had sex."

"I know."

"News travels fast around these parts, huh?"

The both of them laughed energetically. Jonathan had the talent to make them feel as if they were sitting on the football pitch in college in the middle of the night, just the two of them.

"I still get the feeling I'm a whore. Especially to Leena."

Jonathan cocked an eyebrow. "If we have a whore, the grand prize is mine. Imagine how stupid this situation is. I was in love with my college friend who hung me out to dry and still pinned for her while having eyes for another."

"Pretty boy traits--"

It hit her then that Jonathan spoke in past tense. That must have been the finish line, which delayed its bitter-sweet arrival. Indeed, it felt like a crystal key fell from a drawer to shatter into nothingness. Only the golden string remained.

"You hit the jackpot with Leena."

"Crazy part is that I knew. I allowed myself to hurt my ego in the same fucking situation, albeit I knew the consequences from the beginning this time. And she waited, Sam. She waited. The way Jackson flirted with her, I thought I would kick the bucket again."

Samantha looked at Jonathan, at how the moonlight lit up his face. She smiled again, knowing he finally found peace with her choices. "I don't know how to give you closure, Johnny."

He tilted his head towards her direction, with a condescending sneer. "I think I got it when I convinced myself you are in good hands now. And knowing I was always better than Henry the dickhead."

"Indeed you were. You are in good hands now, too. We can let each other go."

"You know I'm not dying or whatever. I'll still be here to break Mark's neck if he hurts you and make it look like he failed in surgery."

Samantha leaned her head against his shoulder and Jonathan shifted his position to make her more comfortable. "No punches will be needed this time. If we break up, it's on me."

A furious torrent of beeping and fervent phone vibrations interrupted the content silence between the two. Samantha took out her phone to witness the shocking headlines of Got7's Mark's mysterious alleged girlfriend.

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[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More(M) - Six

Hello everyone! Hope you had a great first half of the year. With everything happening so fast in my life, I now found a moment to breathe and get in my feelings again. So here's chapter six. Enjoy~ ~6k words, angst, love. How am I supposed to let you go when I don't wanna see you with anyone but me when nobody gets me like you? I only like myself when I'm with you.

Morning came seemingly too early for Samantha. The light orange spice of the sun was barging through the crack of the beige curtains of the bedroom, to find a resting place in the shared bed. That beautiful warmth gently awoke the woman who longed for a couple stolen minutes between the sheets. Try as she might, Samantha shifted from one side to the other in a hopeless attempt to charm the sleep from going away. She looked at Mark, whose brown hair was sparkling a dark autumn gold, and his eyelashes were fluttering in his sleep. Truly, a tender image to remember.

Samantha slid out of bed hoping she wouldn’t disturb Mark’s peace and stretched her body. With the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of an open notebook on a distant desk, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper. She curiously approached it but didn’t dare touch it. Mark’s handwriting was scribbled in the intimacy of the pages, some words crossed out, others accompanied by small question marks. There was a title towering at the top of the page: everyone else fades. A love song.

“Hey.” Mark’s voice groggily echoed from the bed and Samantha turned her body to him. It felt like he had been watching her for a while. His voice was an octave lower than usual but still sounded like music to Samantha’s ears.

“How long have you been awake?” she smiled, approaching the bed to sit on the edge.

Mark extended an arm to her direction to meet with her hand. “I felt you squirm around.”

“I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and gave a small squeeze to his hand. Mark just shook his head in response to indicate he was not bothered at all.

“Did you find anything you like?” asked Mark.

Samantha’s eyes travelled to the open notebook, then back to Mark. “Who is that for?” she asked in a mellow voice, focused on his presence.

Mark intertwined his fingers with hers and chuckled. Samantha was not meant to find that piece of writing, and he’d forgotten entirely about it the previous night. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Samantha chuckled and leaned on her belly into bed, meeting Mark’s curious eyes. He extended his hand to tug a lone strand of hair behind her ear. How much did she want that song to be for her.

“What?” Mark whispered and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I bet my breath smells like shit.”

She laughed louder this time. Was she jealous, with Mark not admitting what she wanted to hear? “I bet mine smells like shit too, so that makes us even.”

“I guess I’ll forgive you this time,” Mark chuckled and let go of her face. He shifted his body to stretch on his side, one arm supporting his head, while the other draped loosely over Samantha’s lap. Marks’ fingers found a grip on Samantha’s naked inner thigh. “Morning sex?”

Samantha giggled and slipped from under his touch in an evident response. Mark laughed, too, albeit with his face dug in the plush of the mattress. “Yeah, go on and break my heart.”

In the absence of any vivid emotions, Samantha felt a string snap in the chords of her heart. Ever since the night before, the woman sensed Mark hid himself behind a wall and she could not see beyond. With every word spoken out of his mouth, the woman gathered it to be the truth.

“I did not mean that.”

Of course you did. “Of course not. I need to get ready for the hospital, I start at noon.”

Mark stretched his body to sit on the edge of the bed, both palms of his hand pushing his torso upright. “Have no idea about the time, but it’s far from noon.”

Then before she had a chance to comment, Mark continued. “Why are you running away from me with every chance you get?”

Samantha looked at him with longing eyes, still with a glimmer of both sadness and regret.

“I need to know, Sam.”

“Didn’t I tell you last night, Mark?”

“I did not sleep a wink thinking about everything you said. After the sex we had. Did you?”

Samantha hesitated for a moment. “No.”

A deep sigh exploded from Mark’s lungs. “Then why? I get it, I’m not tall like him, not as handsome, maybe half as smart—”

The woman rushed to shush him. “That doesn’t even matter—”

“All that I gave to you and still am giving is care and respect. And lo—”

In the distant living room, the sharp ring of a phone cut through what could have been Mark’s confession. Samantha hurriedly distanced herself from the bed, recognizing that the sound belonged to her phone.

“…fuck it.” Mark concluded and gathered a loose shirt from his wardrobe to throw over his head. He plunged to his feet to close the notebook where he had put his thoughts and feelings into lately. It was such a painful blur what Mark was feeling, far from the fairytales love ever promised, and it was blurry, Samantha’s voice speaking hurriedly from the other room, at some point fading in such a manner he could not recognize as hers. After a couple more prolonged seconds, Samantha’s head perked from behind the doorframe, watching Mark’s movements with a heavy heart. “Jonathan rang, the hospital is calling for the board of directors. They want me there earlier.”

“Yeah, sure, you should go.” Mark replied absentmindedly, not even sure he was processing anything else beyond the disappointment of his feelings. The bitterness did not go unnoticed.

“Mark…” Samantha tried getting closer, but Mark did not give any sign of mirroring her actions. She backed away. She settled for another question. “You’re leaving again today?”

“Tonight, yes.” He turned to look at her with a knot in his throat. “I need to start packing and all that.”

In a futile attempt to reestablish a connection with Mark, Samantha ultimately walked away from the cold doorframe, biting into the plush of her lower lip to push back the tears. At long last, she had found someone again, to treat her right and engulf her heart with warmth and joy. Was fear bigger than love? Perhaps it was. Was her pride bigger than Mark? It should not have been. As the woman gathered her scattered clothes from the lover’s nest which was Mark’s living room, and eerie sentiment started crawling to her faster and faster. It was as if Mark felt it too when he approached, replacing her in the doorframe. His arms were folded over his torso and there were abrupt lines under his eyes.

“I don’t think we’ll see each other again.” Mark spoke finally and there was some bigger denial force which led Samantha to believe he was just speaking about the present day.

“No, it’s alright, you must pack, meet up with the others. I think it’s going to be a full day at the hospital, anyway, so don’t worry about me!” Samantha cheered and forced a fake smile out of Mark. He did not want to say more.

“Murphy and Millo are outside, just so you know. I let them out into the backyard after you fell asleep.”

“Sure, I’ll get Murphy on the way out. Thanks.”

There was no intimacy during the last seconds of Samantha’s departure, just fugitive smiles shared, and Mark did not follow her outside. The eerie feeling the woman had previously culminated when Murphy suddenly started yelping and crying that he did not want to leave. As if he’d never come back.

Samantha put on her white coat in her office, straightening the wrinkles in the magenta crayon dress hugging her body. She pushed the hair tightened in a ponytail from under the collar, and let it swing like a metronome for a while. There was a pile of medical files on the desk which needed her careful revision for the day, yet the only thing capturing her attention was Mark’s cold demeanor during their parting. Fingers were curling at the hem of the coat, eyes fixated on a faraway point outside the window. Samantha did not hear Jonathan coming in.

“Sam?” Jonathan approached, briefly tapping at her shoulder. She flinched at the unexpected contact, broken off from her trance.

“Sorry, Jonathan.” She coughed shortly to gather her voice, turning to face the other. “What’s up?”

Jonathan observed her features, devoid of the usual happiness she had lately. “Did anything happen between you and Mark?”

Samantha frowned and for a moment forgot Jonathan knew her better than anyone. Or at least used to. “I don’t really feel like talking about it.” Before Jonathan commented. “Please. What do you need?”

“Nothing in particular, I stopped around to ask about the management meeting. There are rumors you want to step down?”

She nodded her head. “I do. I hate this politics and it’s not really my thing. I want to go back to treating people full time. This time for real.”

A small pause and then a sincere smile appeared on Jonathan’s lips. He opened his arms and Samantha gladly took the invitation to wrap around him. Jonathan gently pulled her head into his shoulder, towering over her. “Congratulations. We’ve been waiting for you for so long. Does this mean you talked to him? To Mark?”

Samantha tightened her grip around Jonathan. His back was as broad as she remembered it to be.

“Then why are you sad?”

She just shook her head. “Okay, I’ll stop. We can speak when you feel like it. I lied to you earlier, I actually came to tell you something else.”

“Oh?” Samantha pulled away, watching Jonathan with curious eyes. Jonathan cleared his throat, still holding Samantha close to him. It might as well have been for the last time that he did.

The nervous pacing of a nurse interrupted them with a knock on the open door. Jonathan let go of the woman, straightening his back. He winked at Samantha, with a playful smirk on his lips that she had not seen in a long time. She was overwhelmed with curiosity, especially since, even before the beginning of their relationship, that small gesture was always associated with mischief.

“Doctor Stoss, there is a patient here who wants to meet you. I understand you treated his wife in the past.”

“Of course, I’ll join him momentarily. Thank you, nurse.”

Samantha turned back to Jonathan after the nurse had walked away. “Hey, do you think we could call in the late-night motorcycle ride we talked about? I could really use it. And we could talk more, as it seems you have one or two things to confess to me.”

Jonathan laughed. “Count me in, then. I’ll walk with you; I’m heading to the reception area anyway.”

Truth was, people never get to be ready for the situations life puts them through. They never get warnings, never get spoilers, always hit again and again with the unforeseen and never get used to it. In the lobby of the reception area, Samantha recognized the man looking for her, all too well, with little tweaks and rough around the edges. Next to him was a woman, showing signs of pregnancy, and it all felt like history was replaying all over again. In a cruel deja vu.

“Doctor Stoss,” the man spoke, and a shiver ran down Samantha’s spine. Jonathan felt it and made himself busy around the area, in case she needed him. “We meet again.”

“Mister Dalton, yes.” Samantha composed herself but her skin must have been so pale from the sheer shock. “How can I be of use?”

“I know what you must be thinking.” The man continued, keeping a distance. “It’s not you that I hate, if I have that anymore in my heart. My sister,” gesturing toward the feminine silhouette next to him “she recently found out that she is pregnant, and we wish to monitor everything meticulously from the start.”

Samantha could not comprehend the words spoken to her. “That’s certainly very good thinking but why me? There are many skilled doctors in Seoul who I’m sure can help you with whatever you need.” She then looked down at the white floor. “I did not even forgive myself, so how could you?”

Dalton’s sister reached out for Samantha’s hand in a compassionate gesture which took Samantha by surprise. The man was looking away, not with a distraught expression, but rather one which was desperately fighting for the closure he so much needed. “You should forgive. We both know it was not you. We do.”

So many thoughts were rushing at that moment through Samantha’s mind, crowding and emptying and then crawling in colossal nonsense. The past weeks had been full of the unexpected, of unknown emotions, unknown people, and unknown happenings. Mark came to her mind again. How was it a coincidence that only the night before she was undoing the strings of pain aching at her heart, only to be followed by the father whose two most important people were lost from this life, looking to her for treatment?

“You are foreign like us, so you do understand the obvious choice. We read your scientific papers and all the good you did for the people. Despite us losing our dearest wife and sister, we want to bring his niece and my daughter into the world, loud cries and healthy. By your hands.”

Jonathan’s smile was so stretched out that it could have reached the galaxy. Samantha turned to him by instinct, to find him scribbling a happy face on an empty admission form, as happy as his oozing joy. Then she turned to the brothers, to be met by a sincere look in mister Dalton’s eyes. The sign for which she hoped would come finally did.

“Mister Dalton, please find one of these admission forms and fill it in on my patient’s behalf. Let’s go to an examination room.”

Jonathan giggled akin to a child. “Doctor Williams, if you could help me bring the other files I had, please.”

In light of the events unfolding before her very eyes, Samantha felt something click in her conscience. All the signs in the world could not have been louder to tell her it was time she came face to face with her feelings and her pride. For all that mattered, she had to confess to Mark what was on her mind, which was him and him alone. The mornings drew their breath from him, the days flew by to reach him, and the dusk settled to be with him. There couldn’t have been any other. It could not make sense with anyone else, it had to be Mark.

Now, or never.

Amidst packing the usual stuff for the last leg of the tour, Mark had an uneasy sentiment throughout. He replayed the moment they lay together on the summer grass in the park, teasing and laughing at one another, sewing little by little what he thought would be an indisputable connection. She drew him in, with the audacity of a thief and the serenity of a child. The smell of her skin filling the air bewitching him, the amber of her eyes twinkling like the brightest of stars, and oh the sound of her voice. She was a midsummer night’s dream.

Only she proved to be just that. A dream. Who was he to intrude, if she did not want him?

Mark took a glance at himself in the mirror and laughed at how hypocritical he was. Blaming his mishap on Samantha’s clear boundaries. You aren’t that guy, Jinyoung kept repeating to him, time and again, and by the time he realized he truly was not that guy, he had already done the damage to himself. During Mark’s career, with the bright lights and the fame, most of the girls he met were shallow, looking for easy ways to get out. They all wanted him; he never wanted them. Now that he wanted her, she did not want him. How pitiful that must have felt, to walk with your head held high into a trap thinking it would be a reward. And Samantha was not like anyone else he’d had, she was everything all the other women were not. Fierce, independent, addictive. In between the sheets, he did not believe sex and love could coexist and mean something. And Mark wanted her, with every piece she carried, even more so to fool himself he could help her heal, put a purpose on love again.

Human beings are selfish by nature, far from being perfect. Mark could not push a woman to be with him, against her own will. He would rather suffer than live a lie. Against all odds even, he stopped believing she would give them a chance.

So, to let her go was what he could do, for the sake of both of them.

At the crack of sundown, Mark brought his luggage to the van and joined with the rest of the guys to leave for the airport. He must have exuded a sense of sadness because the usual cheery atmosphere turned into a looming silence.

“Mark? Everything okay?” Jackson asked, putting his phone to the side.

“Yeah, sort of.” Mark replied and put the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, with a loud sigh. Ultimately, he gave up. “Everything is not okay.”

Jinyoung just sighed and folded his arms over his chest. Mark turned his body to the side to speak with the driver. “Can we make a stop to SMP hospital?”

“What are you even doing, adding oil to the fire?” Jinyoung commented, clearly dissatisfied that his friend just chose to torture himself further.

Mark fixed the hood over his eyes, relaxing his body into the fabric of the seat. “I’m letting her go.”

Bambam almost spit the water he was drinking. “You’re doing what now?”

But Mark just ignored the guys, opting to stay silent during the rest of the ride to the hospital. Admittedly, both Jinyoung and Jackson were surprised by Mark’s disclosure. Something had to happen during the night before for Mark to take such a decision, especially as they saw and knew about the feelings Mark harbored for Samantha. They knew better than to pry, Mark would share when he considered appropriate, and all they had to do was to be there for him.

Thoughts were racing through Mark’s mind, as was his heart in his chest, trying to figure out what exactly he would say to rip the band-aid as fast as possible. Whose band-aid he was going to rip off most probably would belong to him, still against his better feelings. Was he an impostor for not fighting more? Although there is nothing louder than the silence of two people being in love but walking away because someone had to choose themselves over the other?

“We’re here, Mark.” Jackson broke the silence, shaking Mark off his trance. “Still going?”

Mark just cracked open the door of the van in response, unpeeling himself hastily from his seat. Back in the car, there was an avalanche of buzzing coming from the cellphones of the other guys, and there was a collective shock.

“Oh my God”, the leader of the group spoke, looking through the pictures their manager had just sent them in the shared groupchat. “This is very bad.”

“Is it Samantha in all of them?” Jackson spoke and could not believe what he was seeing.

“Mark will have to make a statement for this shit, there’s no way. Where did these even come from?” Bambam threw his phone on the back seat. “Is it a fact Dispatch is going to publish it?”

“But he’s letting her go, no? So that’s… nothing is good.”

Mark’s phone was left in the backseat of the car, assaulted by messages and calls from their manager. Jinyoung looked out the window at Mark’s back walking away from the van, still stuck upon the striking picture in which Samantha was heatedly kissing the bartender of the club where the group spent their night some weeks before. Where Mark inadvertently met Samantha. Another picture in the deck where a dashing blonde man was sharing laughs with Samantha on the back of a motorcycle. And another one, alongside a charming tall brunette, doting over one another on the golden sands of a foreign beach. “Let’s hope he’s letting her go.”

The walk from the back of the parking lot to the entrance of the main lobby started a high-pitched ringing in Mark’s ears and he could not realize when he was met by the hospital receptionist.

“What can I help you with, sir? Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes. Could you page doctor Stoss? I need to talk to her.”

The receptionist was happy to comply with his request and Mark leaned his elbows against the reception counter. There were unusually few people that night in the main lobby of the hospital, keeping the bleak silence of the hospital intact.

“Out of everyone I could have met tonight, I never expected to meet you here.”

Initially, Mark did not recognize the arrogant voice, but when he turned his body to face the owner of that voice, he felt his blood pressure increasing.

“Neither did I, Doctor Carter.” Mark noted, keeping a snarky comment, still a prisoner, under a feigned sense of respect. He was hoping Henry would just leave, albeit highly unlikely.

“I get it, you’re here to see my dear Sam. Heroic, if you ask me. Mark, was it? How important must you singers be.”

The way he was using Samantha’s name was making Mark angry, more than belittling himself. “I didn’t ask. I have nothing to say to you.”

Henry chuckled and fixed the collar of his white coat. Using his analytical and cocky demeanor, Henry was actively looking for ways to assert dominance over Mark. He posed the physical advantages at least. “I have a couple of things to say to you, might as well just listen.”

Mark turned his body fully toward Henry, keeping his stance strong and definitive. Henry arched a curious eyebrow and decided he’d entertain Mark.

“Do go ahead and speak to her while you have the chance. Next time you’d be back, maybe you won’t have it.”

“As if I need any permission to ask of you. You are too self-sufficient to see beyond your shadow.”

Henry laughed yet felt annoyed. He reached into his pocket to reveal a small velvety box to Mark. “When she becomes my wife, you won’t get fifty meters around her shadow.”

The guts of the guy made absolutely no sense to Mark who, out of instinct, just burst out laughing. There was a passer-by, alerted by the bizarre sounds of laughter.

“I don’t know if you’re either too stupid or too delusional but thanks for the laugh.” Mark concluded and threw his hands up in the air in a mocking gesture.

In any other setting, Henry would have grabbed Mark by the collar. He took a step closer to Mark’s silhouette. “Why? Think it is going to be you whom she chooses?”

Undeterred by the feelings of a broken heart twisted by an invisible knife, Mark mirrored Henry’s actions to also take a step forward. “Doesn’t matter who it is going to be but sure as hell it’s not going to be you, doctor. If you can keep calling yourself that.”

“Mark.” Samantha’s voice broke the tension between the two men and caused them to back away from one another. Henry put the velvety box back in the pocket of his coat, regaining his self-confidence. He met Samantha with one of his charming smiles, but she did not pay him any attention. Her eyes were focused on Mark, in a contradiction of happiness and fear. “You paged me, did anything happen to you?”

Mark glanced at Henry, signaling that he wanted to get some privacy with her.

“Let’s go to my office.”

“Will I have the honor to see you a tad later? I’ll get you home.” Henry chirped but Mark and Samantha turned their backs to him. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He finally spoke, unable to acknowledge he was no longer Samantha’s main focal point.

Samantha closed the door of the office behind her in a clumsy motion, struggling to gather the words to speak. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, I thought you were flying out?”

Mark turned to her and voluntarily allowed her to see the sadness and impatience flowing over his face. “I am, the van is parked outside. I wanted to see you one last time.”

Samantha scoffed and suddenly felt like throwing up. She quickly recalled the looming feeling of the morning, Murphy’s refusal to leave Mark’s house. “One last time? You’re coming back soon; we’ll get to see each other again.”

Biting in the plush of his inner cheek, Mark walked towards her and tenderly cupped her face. “I cannot see you again, Sam. We won’t see each other again. I came to say goodbye.”

She shook her head in disbelief, watching Mark with a desolate expression. “What, no, no you can’t. What do you mean goodbye?”

The tear rolling down Samantha’s cheek twisted the knife deeper into Mark’s heart. He guided his thumb to wash it away. “I cannot be with one foot in and have the other ready to go. It’s very, very painful for me, and I can’t force you to love me if you don’t. I tried to be that guy, but I can’t. I want people to see us out in the street holding hands, I want people to hear us when we’re making love and know it’s me in our bed. I want to experience things I’ve never felt before with you. I want to kiss you right in Henry’s fucking face and I want all the love songs I’ll write to have you as their muse. Everyone else fades was about you. I don’t want to see you with anyone but me.”

Mark leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on Samantha’s forehead, his lips finally whispering against skin as he pulled her into him. “I’m so sorry.”

Samantha’s eyes peeled wide open with each sound crossing the barrier of Mark’s lips, with each pulling the rug from under her feet. She did not become aware of when heavy tears flattened against her features, no whimper leaving her chest. The silence was deafening, and Mark was one inch away from slipping into a place where she could not reach. The warmth of Samantha’s tears was flooding into the crook of Mark’s neck, and he had to gather all ounces of strength to keep himself together.

Still, voice was trembling. He wouldn’t wish in his wildest dreams to make her cry, when he convinced himself, he would never. “I have to go, Sam. Please, let me go. I need you to be fine with it, you must be fine with it so I can go.”

No physical counter could account for the pain stacking up in Samantha’s being. Mark placed another butterfly peck on her forehead as he distanced his body from hers, briefly caressing her hand with his. Just as Mark was about to turn the knob of the door, a cry bubbled out from Samantha’s mouth.

“How will I love you if you leave?”

Mark’s fingers froze on the knob, his head jolting back to capture Samantha’s saddened frame. To then face her in utmost distrust. That was no moment for his mind to have him hallucinate. “What did you say?”

The woman faced Mark, repeating the sweet words Mark wished to hear, in the faintest of murmurs. “I love you, Mark.”

A sole tear escaped the chains of Mark’s eyelids, and he approached Samantha carefully, barely grasping the events unfolding. Samantha gathered from behind the thick veil formed on her irises that he was still there, still in her proximity. “I didn’t know I loved you the first time you left a note on my coffee table that you walked Murphy after that heavenly sex. I didn’t acknowledge I loved you when I poured my heart out in the rain to the other side of the world where you were, in New Delhi. I understood I loved you when you said you’d take me with you to see the world. And I felt I loved you when you were running through my fingers last night.”

Mark rushed to envelop her absolute anatomy into his arms, swallowed by the need to feel her every atom at the tips of his fingers. There was no force tempting her to break down crying, she was just silently staring into an empty imperfection in the floor. “I was so afraid you’d leave me.”

“I was so afraid you’d never have me,” Mark countered and buried his face into the crown of her head. “Gosh, I feel like an idiot now.”

“Will you leave me?”

When Samantha gathered the strength to finally make eye contact with Mark, the image of her, with the porcelain skin glowing underneath the cascade of tears, with the glimmer of the eye burning with fear, was alluringly devastating. Samantha was convinced the wound of a bullet wouldn’t hurt as badly as Mark denying their love. It all should have started to fall in place. It all should have started to make sense. She should have thanked every deity the otherworldly coincidence for putting mister Dalton into her path, and she also knew she had a long way of repenting for the hurt she caused to Mark. Part of which he confessed again, one too many times. For all of which, she almost chose to ignore.

Almost is never enough.

“It’s almost been half an hour; we are going to lose our plane.” Jinyoung observed, growing steadily impatient. “Someone should go and get him.”

“I’ll go,” Jackson volunteered, fixing the champagne-colored shirt on his body. “We all know how shit this situation is but you of all people should know not to get mad.”

Jackson hopped off the car, to make his way to the hospital entrance. With the paparazzi resurfacing all of a sudden, he wished to be fast and smooth and not attract any more unwanted attention that would add to the already poor situation. Jackson followed the directions to a corner of the lobby where the management offices were listed and took an elevator to the second floor, in search of Samantha Stoss’ office. A quick question, among his fine features and a gentle smile, was all he needed to locate the room towards the middle of an adjacent corridor. From far away, Jackson noticed two people were coming to the same direction as he was going, a beautiful curly haired woman, and a tall blonde manly figure, both in surgical attire.

The faster they approached, the more he recognized the man was the same in the picture with Samantha, straddling the two wheeled vehicle. Their presences were the sole ones in the corridor. Not the one to jump so quickly to conclusions, Jackson chose to be mindful of the other man’s actions.

“Could we help you with something, sir?” the man spoke, a hint of confusion in his voice as he failed to place Jackson in that scenery. It was clear that he did not know who he was. Not the same could have been said about his companion, whose eyes acknowledged his presence differently from that of a complete stranger.

Leena watched him intently and the virtually unnoticeable gesture of her wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue forced Jackson to linger slightly. “Oh, don’t mind me, thank you. I am here for Doctor Stoss.”

Jonathan quirked his eyebrows. “Samantha is quite popular around these parts. So, I gather there’s someone else besides Mark?”

The last remark was intended more for Leena who reciprocated Jackson’s lingering action. “I am not sure bandmates toss their girls around to one another. Am I wrong?”

Jackson chuckled and Jonathan could not help but feel dissatisfied with the exchange. “Much to my dismay, Mark met Doctor Stoss first. Otherwise, who knows?”

Leena laughed and before Jonathan had the chance to reply, Jackson continued. “Apologies, I wish I had more time to stay, I came to take Mark, so we won’t lose our flight.”

“Mark is here?” Leena followed curiously and watched Jackson extend his hand to open the door. Then, leaning to Jonathan, voice lowering into a whisper, eyes fixated on Jackson’s body dressed elegantly in Louis Vuitton attire. “What if they’re having sex?”

“I’d feel too bad to end the goodbye sex.”

Jackson opened the door to meet a hugging Samantha and Mark. Fully clothed otherwise, Jackson noticed Samantha’s face was smeared with tears and he could only hope Mark made it as easy as possible. The couple quickly pulled apart, and Samantha brought her hands to her eyes, to wipe them. Mark frowned at Jackson, if anything to show genuine confusion.

“What are you doing here, Jackson?”

“I hope you’ve finished breaking up because as of right now, you do not really have any other choice.” Previous chapter Next chapter

[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More(M) - Five

Hello everyone!! Long time no see, indeed! I must say I hit writer's block these days but in no way did I abandon this story. Even more so now, when I am so eager to continue. This chapter will bring you spicy surprises and turning points ^^. Enjoy!

~6k words, angst, smut

I want to make you forget about that ex. In truth, I loved the idea of you overthinking all your texts. And I wanted all your neighbors to hear you yell when we have sex. I don’t want it to be a problem when we come together. And I don’t want us a secret.

Jackson plopped down on Mark’s couch, still carrying a serious look of disbelief on his face. “Look, I agree but Bambam literally said what we all thought. Collectively.”

Mark rolled his eyes at Jackson’s remark. He was searching for another song in his playlist to play on his vintage stereo system.

“I think we were more shocked to meet her like that,” Jinyoung continued, leaning against an empty small table in the living room. “Showing up at our studio.”

“And in that motorcycle jacket? Take my money. Did you know she had a bike?” Jackson put a hand dramatically over his chest.

Mark nodded. “Yeah, saw it first time I went to her house.”

“Living the dream. Hottest date, to ride the bikes together around town.”

“Could you stop fantasizing on my behalf?” Mark chuckled in Jackson’s direction and the latter laughed at the note. Mark then turned to Jinyoung, who was cocking an eyebrow. “I had no idea she would come to the studio, believe me. I wanted you to meet her under different circumstances.”

Jinyoung crossed his arms over his chest, a playful look in his eye. “You never told us why you came so early from your date.”

“Yeah, cause it wasn’t a date.” Mark commented and the other two men almost simultaneously turned to him. “Had the surprise to see her with another man.”

The playful look disappeared from Jinyoung’s expression. “You’d have to elaborate on that.”

“I can’t really elaborate, I didn’t stay around enough to see what happened next.” Mark shrugged his shoulders. “The guy had her backed against the lockers, a hand holding her cheek. It was not the first time he… they did that. It was the reason Sam came to the studio.”

“To explain.” Jinyoung completed, albeit not in agreement with the situation. “And what’s your take on that?”

Truth was, Mark did not have an exact answer to Jinyoung’s inquiry. Sure, the scenery of Samantha being present in the proximity of another man displeased and hurt Mark. He built some expectations for the two of them, carried away by their unquestionable synergy, and by the trust exuded by Samantha at every small dare or challenge presented by Mark. He believed in her words, and more than anything he believed in her. Mark believed in Samantha when she said she missed him, when she confided in him, when she said there would not be another guy. So, he put in the effort to carry himself in such a manner that would make Samantha desire him even more. At some point, Mark considered trying to have the talk with her, to play with his cards on the table, to build trust in them as more than just an arrangement.

At the very end, Samantha never promised anything, she never drew the line. Mark did not have it in him to throw the bouquet of the flowers he handpicked in the trash. But he was not indifferent to the image of her subjugated by the intimacy of another that was not him.

“I’ll hear her out.” Mark said lastly, seating himself by Jackson on the couch. A short quirk of the eyebrows as Jinyoung opted to simply nod his head.

“If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jackson chuckled. “If you wanted us to actually believe you, you should have used your acting skills at least.”

“Why? Not that convincing?”

Mark agreed with Jackson. “We’ve known each other 12 years. It takes so much more than that.”

The three of them laughed. Truly, a bond that not many people get to have in a lifetime. And Mark knew Jinyoung, as much as everyone else, was looking out for him.

“If you have something to say, just say it.”

Jinyoung sighed and threw his hands in the air. “Look, I know, a good-looking, bike-riding, smart surgeon woman, who has a mysterious aura about herself. I’d be a hypocrite to say I wouldn’t get interested.”

“You know what he’s gonna say.” Jackson extended an arm over the backrest of the couch.

“All I’m saying is that, given the circumstances, I wouldn’t be happy at all. If a guy touched or held the girl I liked like that.”

All eyes were focused on Mark.

“But why don’t you talk to her and set the record straight? I’m all for explaining,” Jackson shifted his body to face Mark, “but if you told her, you liked her beyond just the sex, at least you’d know it’s either this or that.”

Jinyoung moved his hands in a gesture that indicated he agreed with Jackson. And Mark agreed with them, too. In any given situation, he would be the type of man to express his wishes and voice his wants and needs. Mark did not necessarily like the chasing. Within his chest, he knew why he was still playing the game and why he did not walk away the second he saw Samantha with the stranger man who was playing with his mind. Regardless, Mark let the little evil elves whispering in his ear take the reins of reasoning. The bell of the front door started ringing vigorously.

“It’s complicated.” Mark rose from the couch. “It’s also Samantha at the door,” said he, half-doubtful he spoke the words to convince himself it truly was her at the door. When he opened it, he actually made sure of it.

Samantha looked very different since the morning visit to the studio. The commanding behavior softened to a natural feminine aura, the sun-kissed freckles no longer hidden behind foundation accompanied by the mellow smile she had the day they met, everything stunned Mark.

Samantha felt very different.

“Hey, beautiful.” Mark welcomed Samantha with an observation he’d hoped was as visible to her as much as it was to him. Mark was distracted by the lively bark of Murphy, eagerly anticipating a welcome as warm as his mother’s. So, he obliged, the smile sketched on his face growing as he knelt to ruffle Murphy’s fur.

Samantha followed Mark’s carefree movements with warmth coloring her features. She didn’t know what to expect from him; all that she hoped was that Mark wouldn’t look at her with repulsion. Instead, Samantha was met by the same jovial Mark she’d met the very first time. And it scared Samantha that Mark felt very different since morning, all the same.

Did he care, still?

“Hey, yourself.” Samantha replied and watched as he straightened his body to meet her eyes. How much did she wish that that would’ve been their reunion, that he’d plant a kiss on her lips and circle his arms around her frame in a longing embrace. Suddenly, Mark felt so far apart.

“Come in.”

Mark pushed the door open and guided Samantha into the living room. She noticed two very familiar silhouettes, Jackson as he was putting his leather vest on, and Jinyoung as he was gathering his things. Murphy’s little woofs distracted the two men into looking at the source of sound, smiling at the little creature. Eyes speedily travelled to Samantha’s physique, and both greeted her with a smile. Perhaps Jackson’s more expressive. He was the first one to formally introduce himself. There was a lively song playing in the background.

“I’m Jackson, nice to meet you, finally.”

Samantha prevented her eyes from widening. Maybe Mark did speak about her. She took Jackson’s hand and shook it, enjoying his amiability.

“Likewise, Jackson. I truly hope you didn’t think I was a freak or anything.” Samantha offered a smile of her own eliciting a chuckle from the other. She caught Jinyoung in the corner of her eye as he examined her. Not blatantly, yet not covertly either. Samantha wondered what they both thought about her.

“Far from that,” Jinyoung chimed in, giving his own hand for a greeting, “but you definitely incited the collective curiosity.”

Samantha took the invitation, meeting Jinyoung halfway. Out of everyone, she figured he was the toughest to impress. And on good merit, nonetheless. “I wouldn’t say about myself that I’m an open book but please know I’m more than happy to clear the curiosities.”

The corner of Jinyoung’s lips lifted in a modest smirk. “Maybe I’ll heed the invitation.”

Jackson cleared his throat and Jinyoung pulled back. “Don’t worry about us, we were just leaving.”

“No bother at all. I wouldn’t want us to be so formal, it was very nice meeting you both.” Samantha extended her hands to offer the two men a warm wave and a small dip of her head. Jackson and Jinyoung both did the same, the last action they made prior to heading out the door. “Likewise, Samantha”.

Mark’s loud sigh doubled the echo of the closing door which caused Samantha to fiddle with her fingers. “I must have made a terrible impression, haven’t I? They definitely think I’m a freak.”

“Nope, no freak,” Mark turned around to walk toward Samantha’s direction. As he was approaching, he was unzipping his hoodie. “They just don’t know you. Actually, Jackson was quite smitten with you, I could swear he’d want to steal you for himself.”

It was the first time Mark had openly spoken about his members, even more so about anything that had to do with their opinion about her. Mark’s words were not reassuring enough for Samantha as eyes were still focused on her nervous fingers. She didn’t know what to make of the entire situation. “Jinyoung doesn’t like me.”

Mark grabbed at the hem of his T-shirt to throw it over his head. A bracelet at his wrist was tangling loosely when he guided Samantha’s chin to make her look at him. “Out of all of us, Jinyoung is the one who doesn’t play games when it comes to people. You have to make him trust you before he lets you in."

The initial nervousness Samantha felt while fidgeting with her fingers transformed into butterflies into her stomach. Although the main emotion she was feeling was uneasiness, at his words, and at his sudden naked torso. She had but a moment to watch the muscles of his abdomen contract and relax with the movement of the arm which was holding her frozen in place. Henry’s most similar gesture crossed her mind. “Do you play the game, Mark?”

Mark’s irises were fixated on hers. The tone of his voice softened and lowered with each spoken word, until it became little more than a whisper. A question for a question. “Are we playing the game, Sam?”

Samantha’s lips parted with a sigh, the knot in her stomach tightening. There was no hint to suggest that Mark was not serious with his inquiry. She knew the answer to his question, but the words were frozen like they weren’t hers to speak. While Mark was looking at her, with the stoicism of his body and the seriousness of his eyes, Samantha presented herself agonizingly transparent.

“Wasn’t this the way he was holding you?” taunted Mark, drawing closer to her in an even voice. His other hand found the clothed valley of her hips. “Did you want him to kiss you?”

“No.” Samantha stated, an ounce of desperation evading beyond her control. The infinitesimal distance Mark was keeping between them was slowly driving her crazy. And he knew he held all control. “At no point did I want him to kiss me.”

Silence followed. A harrowing silence growing heavier with each movement of Mark’s brown orbs drawing back and forth on her features. Samantha grabbed Mark by the chest. “Say something goddammit!” she urged.

Mark pulled Samantha into him and slammed his lips against hers. In the background, a sexual melody mix broke into the stereo system. Samantha wobbled on her feet, which caused Mark to tighten his grasp around her figure. The background music melted with the swift ringing in her ears and the tips of her fingers turned cold from the unanticipated contact. Mark’s kiss was raw and hurried, yet obscenely sensual. Samantha’s lungs were deflating quickly, and Mark did not seem too eager to let her breathe. It was the first time he initiated such a kiss. His lips had always worked against hers with tenderness, at times enticing, but never so ardently carnal.

It was a possessive kiss and Mark wanted Samantha to feel it.

Mark pushed their bodies into the couch, and he slid his knee in between her thighs. During the brief moment their lips were separated, Samantha gasped for air, which was rather a sharp moan with Mark settling above her, and his clothed knee tormenting her womanhood. “Mark, I can’t breathe.”

“I couldn’t breathe either when he was towering over you, Samantha.” His visage was wearing the same chilling expression, albeit a sliver of distress hiding behind it. “I imagined him doing all sorts of things to you, with you. Fuck.”

Mark tilted his head to the side, a canine digging into the plush of his lower lip. Samantha’s eyes were watching him intensely. She was devoid of any courage to speak a word. Never would she have imagined she would see Mark like that. Not for her.

“I missed you girl, I missed you. And I…” You’re all I fucking think about.

Samantha gulped. She was observing Mark’s every gesture, every little shift in his facial expression, every word he was speaking. All the feelings in her chest were strangers and Mark was tempting and enchanting. He was everything Samantha wanted him to be. Even when he suppressed his thoughts, Mark was everything Samantha wanted. And he was there, in her immediate grasp.

You’re all I ever thought about.

“Kiss me, Mark.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Mark lowered his body instantly to connect the kiss in a lustful motion. His tongue lost no time to part Samantha’s lips and find her own into a frenzied tango. As his hands slid down to play with the hem of her t-shirt, so did the ever-growing feelings for the woman he was holding. The blood in his veins was pulsating with apparent unrequited affection, and it set him ablaze.

Mark broke the kiss in a nimble motion to undress Samantha of her shirt, to reveal her braless breasts. The tantalizing sight aroused Mark like it did the first time. For him, sex with Samantha felt like it was the first time every time. There was always something new he’d discover in the voluptuousness of her body, in the way her body would curve differently with each heated touch of his hand. Mark licked his lips and undid her shorts.

“Mark…” Samantha mewled, the cold breeze circling her breasts provoked a shudder. She edged her breasts as her eyes darted back and forth between Mark’s hands and the growing bulge in his jeans. Samantha was struggling to form coherent thoughts when he was immorally commanding the pace. She didn’t fight the vulgar lust invading her core. It was easier giving in to the euphoria than acknowledging the truth.

Easier than voicing that Mark should be the one.

“Tell me, darling.” There was a wicked inflection in Mark’s tone, busy with undressing Samantha of her shorts and underwear all at once. “What do you want?”

If it was any other moment, Samantha would have said it was his love she wanted. Still, a hue of shyness colored her rosy cheeks. “I want you, Mark.”

Mark was happy to obey, even if he was convinced Samantha was not speaking seriously. She wanted his body, while he desired her soul. In the heat of the moment, for the short time they’d spend as one, Mark heard what he needed to. That she wanted him, and she’d choose him. He lowered his body to plant kisses through the valley between her breasts, the butterfly pecks eliciting sultry moans out of Samantha’s throat. When his lips passed her chest’s threshold, Mark continued the delicious trail to her abdomen, one hand encircling Samantha’s breast. The other was keeping her thigh from squirming.

Samantha closed her eyes and threw her head into the soft material of the couch to indulge in the intense eroticism Mark was injecting into her body. When his sinful mouth reached her womanhood, Mark chuckled. Then he continued to leave kisses on her inner thigh, deliberately ignoring the wetness of her cavern. Samantha was vexed by Mark’s actions, and she groaned in protest. The hand previously on her breast travelled to her hip to intertwine with her fingers. Mark acknowledged her objection by nibbling a violet spot into her thigh. He traced it with the free index, shifting his body to worship Samantha’s other thigh with blissful movements of the tongue. The little perverted sounds she was making were truly driving Mark to impatience.

The way Samantha’s body was submitting to his febrile touches indicated that she wasn’t that far away either.

Mark pulled away momentarily to unzip his jeans and dispose of them on the floor. The rupture of their connected hands forced Samantha to dig her fingers into the plush of the sofa. The heat in her genitals was much more intense than she anticipated it would be. The simple fact that Mark retreated from tending to her pelvis made her moan loudly, and her vagina clench. Samantha watched him as he undressed himself to reveal his throbbing shaft, and she bit her lip in anticipation. Mark smirked at her and climbed atop her to seat himself between her legs. As he was leaning down to reach her level, the tip of his cock rimmed against soaked clit.

Mark linked their foreheads together, supporting himself with one arm by the side of her head. His other hand rested at the cusp of her jaw. He angled himself at her saturated entrance and slid the tip of his penis inside her. A guttural moan echoed in the air.

“We never did it like this, so tell me if it hurts.” Spoke Mark in a gentle tone and opened his eyes to observe Samantha. She gently shook her head and her fingers stretched into Mark’s shoulder blades to guide his body in a slow thrust. He let out a groan from the depth of his throat, feeling the creamy walls of her vagina enclosing around his shaft. Mark gave her a moment to adapt to his size, gazing intently at her. Samantha was so beautiful, with flushed cheeks and her splendid naked body, all of her offered to him.

Mark felt his heart ache.

“How can you say I’m not making love to you when I’m touching you like this?”

Samantha’s eyelids closed and fluttered open with Mark’s affirmation. The coherent words she tried to form were dispelled instantly when he started moving inside her with controlled thrusts, each forward move taunting her sweet spot. Samantha opened her mouth only to allow the moans to flood the air. And Mark was watching every contraction of her body and indulging in each pulsation of her pussy.

He leaned down to nip at the lobe of her ear. “When you’re giving yourself to me like this?”

“Mark…” Samantha reached to his face to lead the hazel of his eyes to hers. In his eyes she found the same commanding yearning but propelled by a raw sincerity that Mark had not given to her. Everything he was doing gave her a sense of serenity, fueled by the abnormally erotic movements of his hips. In a matter of minutes, she surrendered to him and to the zealous whines her lungs were making.

“What is it, baby?” He picked up the speed of his thrusts, heeding the contractions in Samantha’s womanhood. “You’re close, I know. What I didn’t know is how wet you could get.”

Samantha intended to avert her bashful expression, but Mark’s touch kept her focused on him. “Don’t hide. Let me take care of you.”

Amidst the whorl of sentiments and thoughts racing through her mind, Samantha found an anchor in Mark. She registered all the words he’d spoken to her and all the shielded gestures, and bare confessions. Samantha was powerless to respond, instead. There never was a man in her life to bear his heart on his sleeve, even half of how Mark was bearing his. In her normality, he was an abnormality. And still, he made good of his words and actions and took care of her.

Samantha relaxed in his embrace and extended her body to plant a kiss on his lips. A mellow kiss which Mark reciprocated so naturally that life halted for a second.

Then Mark enveloped Samantha as her body abruptly contracted. She held on to him as she reached for nirvana, her vocal cords enchanting Mark with lascivious breaths repeatedly. Hearing Samantha succumb to ecstasy was the sweetest testament Mark could receive. The hot blood in his veins met the point of boiling as he was getting closer to climax. A couple more lustful thrusts accompanied by roaring groans, each growing faster than the other, brought Mark as close to the edge as he could get. He guided himself out of Samantha’s core to reach his orgasm and paint her abdomen with his white cream.

Samantha enjoyed that particular view of Mark, so much that it was his turn to show a timid smile. It took a little while for Samantha to follow what happened, and when she did, both of them chuckled at each other.

“I’ll get some paper towels.”

“You’ll find me here.”

Samantha’s ears followed the sound of Mark’s steps and the muffled grunt that followed soon after. He returned with a handful of paper towels, and Samantha couldn’t look away from his still hard penis.

Mark took one cloth to clean his canvas half-heartedly. “Round two?”

Samantha giggled. “I’ll have to refuse. Round one was unexpectedly intense.”

“You have no idea how sexy you are.”

Samantha felt her cheek darken once more. She was watching silently as Mark was wiping her abdomen. When he was done, he walked away to throw the used napkins.

“Are you okay? You’re unusually quiet.” Mark’s voice reverberated through the kitchen.

“I’m alright, just a bit tired.” She responded, and Mark immediately walked back to her. He knelt down with her back facing her, gesturing for her to hop on his back.

“Let’s get to bed.”

Samantha hummed and attached herself to Mark’s body. She had never noticed how broad his back was, under the hoodies and oversized shirts he was usually wearing. Mark effortlessly rose from the ground and carried her to the nearby bedroom. He carefully seated Samantha on the edge of his neat bed, and she smiled to herself at the considerable number of pillows residing there. In front of the bed there was a small dressing which Mark opened to retrieve one clean shirt and a pair of shorts for himself.

“I don’t want you to get cold. Here, arms up.” Mark whispered, and Samantha complied with his actions. The dark shirt Mark had given her was large enough to reach her knees. He tossed the thin summery blanket away and helped Samantha up into the nook of his bed.

“Thank you, Mark. You’re so protective of me.” She smiled softly and happily accepted the invitation to encompass herself into Mark’s arms.

 He raised an eyebrow, even though she couldn’t see. “You don’t want me to be?”

“I do,” she answered quickly and laced their hands together. “I like this a lot.”

Mark tilted his head to follow the lazy sunset shimmer through the window. The loose hand he folded under his head served as a good excuse to avoid looking Samantha in the eye. As easy as it had been to drown in her orbs while laying together, just as hard it was to do so while returning to reality. Samantha noticed the atypical silence. With the aphrodisiac sensations fading away, all the words that Mark spoke to her started to click. Samantha was drawing absentmindedly on Mark’s forearm with the tip of her index, trying to reproduce the memory of each phrase. The subtle agony of I couldn’t breathe either when he was towering over you, Samantha, the slight panic in the I imagined him doing all sorts of things to you, with you.

The melancholy in the How can you say I’m not making love to you when I’m touching you like this? which made Samantha’s heart tremble was the seed of hope planted in her soul. If there was any source of truth to say that Mark truly harbored feeling for her, it was not tangible anymore.

Mark, once again, felt so different.

 “What are you thinking about, Mark?” Samantha looked up at him just in time to see how breathtaking the warm colors of the sunset appeared on his features.

He was silent for a while. “About you.”

Samantha furrowed her eyebrows. “What about me? I’m right here.”

A little sigh. “Nothing… it’s just I’m leaving tomorrow, and we won’t see each other a while again.”

“I know…” Samantha’s voice trailed off in sadness. “I don’t want you to go.”

Mark gave a little squeeze to her hand, eyes still watching the first moments of dusk adorning the sky. “That’s not under my control, unfortunately.”

 “I don’t want you to go out of my life, Mark.”

Samantha could swear the vein in Mark’s wrist strained at her words. Still, his expression remained impassable. After a couple moments spent in unmerciful silence, he continued. “Do you think about us? About what we could be?”

The palm of her hand was starting to sweat. Easy answer? Yes, I cannot devote myself to anything that’s not you. True answer? Do you want to take my broken heart? Samantha sensed that she was running out of time, and in hindsight, she should have known that earlier. A man like Mark who had the world at the tips of his fingers, who could have anyone he wished for, wouldn’t say the things he said to any woman that easily. All of it meant something, it should have meant something. It was everything Samantha clung to, for it to mean something. She had to make a decision.

“Forget I asked. You don’t need to say anything.”

“He hit me, Mark.”

The music formerly playing in the background silence of the living room stopped altogether. Mark’s phone must have died, and so did his concentration at Samantha’s sudden confession. His head jerked back to her direction in an impulse to check if she was hurt, even if there was no earthly possibility for her body to be in physical pain at that moment.

Samantha’s mouth was dry, and it shocked her to see Mark’s immediate reaction. She didn’t lose him, he was still there with her. “He hit me after he killed a mother and her unborn child in the operating room.”

“How are we doing there, mrs. Dalton? Can you say something for me?”

Henry’s deft motions of his nimble hands kept raising the standards for a second-year resident. The attendings in the observing room were watching the awake brain surgery with great interest, as was the then-director of the hospital.

“Oh, I can’t wait for this to be done,” the woman rubbed her hand lovingly on her pregnant belly. “Sandra should know the adventures mommy went through.”

“Status on the baby, Doctor Stoss?”

Up until the question was addressed to her, Samantha did not unpeel her eyes from the fetal monitor. “Like a Swiss watch.”

“Keep saying the good news, Doctor Stoss. I’m sure mama Dalton would love to hear that more often.”

“Oh Doctor Carter, I’m sure you were born such a charmer.”

Samantha’s vision was fixated on the handle of the dressing door. She was explaining her memories as if she was living them again. “This surgery had half the hospital watching. It was a procedure previously not done in that medical center, and Henry had had the privilege to participate in one once when we were interns in Toronto. He’s thinking of himself as the hotshot, as he should. His skill and knowledge are top-notch. But they failed him.”

“Doctor Stoss over there can attest to me being a charmer. Or not.” Henry chuckled under his surgical mask, and he quickly stole a glance at Samantha, before focusing on the region of the tumor which he had just reached. “We’re here, mama. Shouldn’t take too long to take it out.”

Mrs. Dalton’s vitals spiked up a level and Samantha observed the nerves on her face. She left her intern in charge of the fetal monitor and approached the woman to reassure her. “It’s going to be okay. We’re here for both you and your little girl.”

Just as Samantha was returning to her previous post, henry was actively preparing to remove the tumor located in a tricky area of mrs. Dalton’s brain. “I’m in.”

The collective audience in the gallery leaned forward to witness Henry’s work. At that point, the loud beeping of the machines pierced the operating room with alarming sounds.

“Doctor Carter, baby’s vitals are starting to drop.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on with my baby?”

“Please try to remain calm, Mrs. Dalton. These reactions happen naturally when a tumor body is being extracted. Once I take this out, everything will get back to normal—”

“Only it didn’t.” Samantha’s fingers curled unconsciously as if reaching out for a scalpel. “I was repeatedly telling him I needed to do a C-Section to save the girl and put her in NICU. At seven months old, she had all the odds of surviving. If only we moved fast enough…”

The distressing sounds of the monitors multiplied when the woman lost consciousness. Her vitals became hectic graphics on the monitors, and Henry visibly stiffened.

“Henry, we are losing this baby. I need to perform the emergency C-Section now.”

“No. I’ll save them both, wait.”

While Henry was applying the standard emergency measures, Samantha’s attention was distracted by the uneasiness of the spectator gallery. She briefly noticed Jonathan, with a looming look on his face that any surgeon regardless of their specialty would understand. The unborn baby was losing its vitals.

“Henry, I’ll move forward. Scalpel, please!”

“I told you to wait! Doctor Stoss, I need you to follow the protocol of my OR.”

“I guess indeed it was his surgery. But those were not his lives to take.”

Half-heartedly, Samantha hesitated to start the neonatal protocol. While Henry had authority, he did not have a positive chance to save both lives. When the fetal monitor fell flat, Samantha went against his instructions and cut into the mother’s belly.

“By the time we took out the little girl, her heart had already stopped beating. We did all the resuscitation maneuvers we knew and could…” Samantha let out a sigh, and Mark pulled her tighter into him. “All hell broke loose. I don’t know when Jonathan got to the OR, but he was there for all of it.”

“Time of death…” Samantha’s discouraged voice echoed throughout the macabre silence of the operating room. “Six thirty-one.” Two paces away, resuscitation maneuvers were still going for the woman on the table. When Henry realized there was no use for them anymore, he stepped away from the body, prompting everyone else to follow his example. “Time of death, six thirty-five.”

Nobody in the room dared move a finger. Two casualties in an operating room which, on paper, could have been avoided. It was a medical disaster. Samantha pulled down her surgical mask, to try and take hold of the situation. “We’ll need to go outside and inform the father—”

“You let her die.”

All eyes fell on Henry. Samantha couldn’t believe her ears. “Excuse me?”

“That baby could have been saved.”

Henry’s voice grew louder, more assertive. Samantha stood her ground, deliberately choosing to ignore Henry’s last comment. “I understand this must be a difficult situation for you, Doctor Carter, but in no way am I to blame.”

“That baby could have been saved!”

As his voice grew into a striking holler, Samantha no longer recognized the man in front of her. She was searching for the proficient doctor, for the partner that he was. And for the lover that he used to be.

“Henry,” Samantha kept calm even though her head was spinning in disbelief “you told me to follow your protocol in your OR—"

 At that point, Samantha could not register what had just happened. Henry raised his hand at her and slapped her on the cheek. There was a shared gasp among the people in the room who refused to understand Henry’s tameless reaction. By the time Samantha tilted her head back to look at Henry, Jonathan had stepped up to punch him in the face.

Mark raised an eyebrow. Although he got off to a rocky start with Jonathan, his respect for him grew substantially.

“A couple of guys had to restrain Jonathan because clearly that wouldn’t have been the last punch he would’ve thrown. After that, I went to inform the father of his… losses. Henry was not allowed to accompany me. The father sued the hospital for malpractice, and I have no idea how they settled. I only saw Henry once, after that. They summoned all the medical operating staff to testify. He never looked me in the eye, not once. I wanted to believe that he was sorry, something to make me believe our relationship was not a lie. I never got closure for that.”

Mark waited patiently for Samantha to continue. When she did not, he placed a chaste kiss on the crown of her head. “Did you need that? Closure?”

She sighed. “I guess I did. When you think you have something of that magnitude with someone, only for it to fall apart in the most gruesome way, I needed some sort of a life raft. Truth is, we started falling apart even before he hit me. Henry was starting to become distant and full of himself. But I never expected him to be violent.”

Mark noticed the flake of regret in her voice, to briefly wonder how things are settled in the vast Universe. Hadn’t Henry done that, Mark wouldn’t have gotten to fall in love with her. Life was funny, that way.

Samantha sighed, once again, yet more out of liberation. Albeit painful, she truly needed to convey the feelings out loud for them to become less repressive. Maybe to disappear.

“Can you understand now, Mark? Why he was able to hold me down at all? Why it is tough for me to trust someone again?”

Mark’s lungs filled with air. “Even me?”

Samantha closed her eyes. He did not need to spell it out loud for her to understand what he meant. “I just need a little more time, Mark.”

Indeed, he never expected to hear anything different, it still did not mean it hurt less. On the one hand, because Samantha still didn’t see him fit to be trustworthy, and on the other hand because he seemingly was giving more than she was ready to receive.

“Should I keep my distance then?” his voice was flat, too much so that he must have given away he was disappointed, because Samantha tightened their holding hands.

“No.” She answered timidly, looking up at him for the first time in a long while. Mark’s eyes were diverted to the emerging summer night. He was slipping away through her fingers, once more.

“I don’t know if I can give you both ways.” Not when I know I'll never treat you the way he did.

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[write-it-good-imagines]

little good thoughts go a long way <3

Here’s some good and easy comment ideas for those who feel shy or don’t know what to say but would like to leave something:

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(Fill in pronouns as needed or refer to a pairing)

3. Screaming, crying, throwing up, ect

Or it’s cousin:

4. Kicking my feet, giggling

5. [Block of copy-pasted text] I like/love this bit in particular; I like how you phrased this

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8. Extra Kudos!

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10. [character name] my beloved

11. I relate to this so hard

Optional, include [line of text] or situation you relate to

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14. I love how you’ve written [x character trait]

15. I love this kind of AU so much!!

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17. I will commit atrocities for this character!

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[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More(M) - Four

~5k words; hi everyone! I am so happy to see this story is still growing wings after so much time, and that you still take some time to read it. Thank you for that! In exchange, I'll give you some crazy action. Enjoy~

I’ve learnt my lesson now… I shouldn’t have had sex with you because I knew, I knew that I’d fall in love with you. You are the person someone would be lucky to be in love with.

“So? What are you guys doing tonight? I’m sure there must be something!”

Leena’s cheerful demeanor put a smile on the barista’s face as well. Not intentionally trying, but she attracted everyone to herself like a magnet.

“Ah, I don’t know. We didn’t plan anything, I mean I am at my cousin’s club tonight,” said Samantha, dipping her head in a silent thank you for her double cappuccino. The little coffee spot by the hospital was just perfect to savor an early august morning, on a Friday that started slower and lazier than all other days.

Leena was not pleased with Samantha’s answer. “Really? Did not plan anything? You tell me, for once in forever, you open your soul up to a guy, after which you two talk non-stop, like a married couple, only to tell me you are taking a shift at the club the day he’s coming back?”

“Well, we don’t talk non-stop, I mean he’s got shows to do and I am taking consults—”

“Outrageous.” Concluded Leena and seated herself at a secluded table. Samantha followed soon enough. “It is exactly because you are taking consults again that I can’t comprehend why you’re running away from him. For God’s sake, you had a surgery.”

Samantha’s eyes fell to the milky foam of her coffee cup. “I had a surgery.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

The woman nodded her head. “Like it was the first time. Thrilling, exciting. But knowing exactly what to do.”

“Just allow yourself to love the guy.”

Samantha scoffed as if Leena had just told her she won the lottery. Highly unlikely, but a possibility even so. “Oh please, I don’t love Mark.”

Leena arched her eyebrows and took a sip of her espresso. “No shit you don’t.”

“No, really. You don’t love a guy who goes up on a stage every night to rip his shirt off and has thousands of girls lining up to get a piece.”

“And does he?” Leena inched closer to Samantha. “Give a piece? Do tell.”

“Well,” Samantha crossed her arms over her chest.  ”Says he doesn’t.”

“Yeah, cause when you assumed he was out whoring he was sleeping.”

“He was sleeping. I think I know a thing of two about him sleeping.”

Leena urged the other to go on. “What else? Ripping his shirt off on the stage you mentioned.”

“Aren’t these kind of guys players? If I look up a photo of last night’s concert, I’ll bet my entire salary that I find one with those tattooed abs of his shoved in my face.” Samantha said, and Leena could not detect even an ounce of regret or sadness in her voice. More like intrigued jealousy.

“You asked him to be your fuck buddy,” with the hand holding the cap, Leena extended an index to point to the other. “Don’t call him a player. Because he was anything but.”

Just as Samantha was opening her mouth to protest, the screen of her phone lit up with a couple of messages. Her actions were stopped to scan the texts with her eyes and a smile tugged at her lips.

“Mhm,” Leena said, tilting her head towards the direction of the phone. “What did he say?”

“Ah, that he’s preparing to go to the airport.”

“The exact words?”

She knew she did not have any chance to escape Leena at that point. “Quote: good morning beautiful. I hope you have an amazing day today. We’re gathering our stuff to fly out. Can’t wait to see you again. End of quotation.”

“Such a player, no?” Leena mocked surprise then laughed at Samantha, who had nothing to contest about what her friend outlined so harshly. In the days following their late-night conversation when Mark was in New Delhi, they kept closely in touch, each texting one another when they found a moment of quiet in their busy schedules. Their discussions did not delve into much depth but were more like quick check-ups to strengthen the connection. Samantha would tell Mark about her days and her patients, and he would ask questions to clarify topics, or would give compliments to praise her work. Mark in turn would talk about the concerts, and the cities he’d fly to, and it took Samantha’s breath away every time he’d say he would take her with him to see what he saw.

Samantha grabbed the phone from the table surface to text Mark back. “What am I even doing, Leena?”

[To: Mark] good morning to you too, Mark 😊

[To: Mark] always aiming to put a smile on my face huh?

[To: Mark] safe travels!! I missed you too

[To: Mark] having a shift at the club tonight, meet me there? I’ll talk to my cousin to leave earlier

“What you are doing,” Leena started, twirling the cup around to play with the dark brown liquid “is not acknowledging your feelings. I can understand you’re still scarred because of Henry but Mark is not him. And I think he’ll help you heal.”

A short ding came from Samantha’s phone almost instantly.

[From: Mark] took you long enough to tell me you missed me

[From: Mark] thanks, flights back home are always tougher

[From: Mark] I’ll be there. there’s a cool skate rink nearby that’s open till late

[From: Mark] if you wanna go, ofc

A sigh escaped Samantha’s lips as her eyes scanned the mobile screen. “I know,” Samantha lifted the phone for Leena to see the texts and the other gave a small gesture, indicating she was on Mark’s side. “I guess I never allowed myself to get over Henry entirely. Not fair to Mark.”

“You said you’d talk to him, right? Besides, you’ve already fucked each other, it’s not like you don’t know intimacy.”

Both Leena and Samantha laughed. Then a lingering expression followed on Samantha’s features. “Mark said he couldn’t make love to me and leave the following day like the next guy.”

Leena’s eyes widened in clear surprise. “Mark said he’s making love to you.”

“It’s just sex, I know. That was an exaggeration.”

“Sam,” Leena adjusted the empty cup on the table and took Samantha’s hands into her own, and, albeit a dramatic gesture, she meant all the seriousness she could muster. “Talk to him. Tell him how you truly feel. He’s not seeing you as a simple fuck buddy anymore. Mark will prove this to you, most likely sooner rather than later.”

During the rest of the day, Samantha felt restless, restless with Leena’s words echoing in her mind, restless with Mark’s words flooding over, time after time. Samantha’s life was growing busier by the day, word of her returning to practice bringing more patients which required her knowledgeable care. She returned to observing surgeries, involving herself in helping whenever necessary, and taking upon other surgeries. Ultimately, she couldn’t make sense of why she allowed herself to be so consumed of Henry’s mistakes and treatment. Why she pulled away from the thing that made the most sense. It was so long ago that she couldn’t remember what prompted her to tug away. It should have been a sign to start anew.

And then life was growing busier by the day with Mark intoxicating her thoughts. A wicked game, chasing away feelings which only returned stronger, more vivid. Samantha did miss Mark, in his entirety. She missed the cozy scent of his Tom Ford cologne when he embraced her, she missed the coarse gentle tone of his voice when he made jokes, and she missed his passionate way of making love.

Samantha decided she would give Mark a chance, beyond just being her fuck buddy.

With that conviction in mind, Samantha left the hospital and rode straight home to prepare herself for the night, in both mental and physical terms. All her makeup products and brushes felt so unfamiliar she found herself wondering when the last time was when she took the time to pamper herself. She dressed herself with a burgundy low-shoulder crop top, with flowy butterfly long sleeves, and a plain black pair of jeans to hug her curves. Samantha gave her hair the freedom to bounce with the wind to complete her look. A quick text exchange with her cousin gave her the green light to leave the club as soon as Mark showed up.

At around 9:30, Samantha arrived at the club, shortly before it opened to the public. Changwook was there as well, an all hands on deck kind of night.

“Hey stranger,” Changwook lifted his head from the bar sink and was thrown off guard by Samantha’s looks. He had to clear his throat to regain his composure. “You’re beautiful.”

“Today only?” Samantha retorted and approached the bar counter, shoving a small backpack under it. She ran a strand of hair behind her ear and Changwook looked away.

“Guess I wasn’t the chosen one.” He stated and threw Samantha an apron. She looked at him with an apologetic look but couldn’t find anything right to say. “It’s cool, really, least I tried.”

“Changwook, it’s not your fault. I’m just…”

Changwook smiled and waved his hand in dismissal. “Not interested. Let’s get to business, we’re opening soon.”

As the night grew deeper, the club welcomed many eager customers to announce yet another successful night for Samantha’s cousin. From behind the bar counter, Samantha noticed a good number of celebrities intertwined in the crowd and her eyes couldn’t help but wander around in search for Mark. In the serving haste, her apron became drenched with water and alcohol, so she whispered to Changwook’s ear that she would go to the back room to get another. Mingling through the crowd, Samantha arrived quickly at the changing room and closed the door behind her. She opened her locker to grab a fresh apron and was just finishing untying the dirty one, when the door clicked open.

Samantha’s lips couldn’t contain an enthusiastic yet nervous smile. She straightened her body, fixing her hair quickly with a swift motion of the hand before turning to the direction of the sound.

She could never have been prepared for the stature towering in front of the closed door.

A white half-transparent shirt which wrapped a chiseled body, with a silver bracelet at the hand lingering in one of the fabric pockets of the trousers, in a stance Samantha knew like the back of her hand. His hair was sleeked back, only a rebel strand playing at his thick eyelashes.

“Henry.” Samantha breathed, the delight of her expression faltering all too soon. She felt her throat choking.

“It’s too bad that happiness on your face was not for me. And saddening you look so bitter instead.” Henry spoke, maintaining a velvety smile. “I’m happy to see you.”

Henry took a couple steps closer to Samantha. She kept her ground. “I’m not. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so rude.” With each step he took forward, Samantha took one back, until her back was pressed against the cold metal of the lockers. She was looking at him sharply in the eye. “It’s been almost two years, I missed you.”

Samantha pushed a hand to his chest to warn him not to get any closer. Henry complied, keeping at a distance that was still not comfortable for her. “Don’t get any closer. Don’t give me the speech on how you missed me after you humiliated me in front of the entire hospital. I want you to leave.”

It took every ounce of Samantha’s strength an effort to confront Henry at a time like that. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking people by surprise at the wrong moments. The first time in a long while Henry was not residing in the back of her head appeared to be the magic trick to summon him into her life again. When he still had a lot of control over her feelings and her reactions.

Henry drew in closer, his tall stature hovering over her. He kept carrying the same smile, trying to ease the tension between them. When he raised a hand to cup Samantha’s cheek, her body quivered and froze all at once.

“But I’ve heard so many great things about you, darling. Management position, and once again operating. When we see each other tomorrow morning at the hospital, I’d really like to know why you stopped taking surgeries.”

There was not enough time for Samantha to process Henry’s words because the door clicked open to interrupt the scene.

There he was, the reason for Samantha’s happiness, even more handsome with a brown short-sleeved shirt and straight grey trousers, which indicated he took the effort to care for his looks. In his hand, he held a breathtaking bouquet arrangement with delicate snapdragons, elegant red roses, fragrant dianthus, and vibrant alstroemeria. A bouquet of a Parisian romance.

There was Mark, with a smile that lit up Samantha’s whole world, now evaporated into oblivion. At a closer look, you could still distinguish a faint trace of a smile, probably in excitement to see you again. Samantha would never come to know whether that was true. The thing she would know and would remember was Mark’s sadness unskillfully hidden behind a bleak smile.

Mark was not supposed to see that. Had the Universe been kind for once, he should have never seen what he just had. Panic was outlined all over Samantha’s features as soon as her eyes locked with Mark’s desolated ones. With the way he carried himself, even more masculine and so sure of himself, Henry would never guess Mark took a hefty blow.

“Thanks for the chat.” He stated simply and threw a brief look in Henry’s direction before backing away from the room. The murmur of a phrase that became so intimate to her was now the reason the tense air of the room strangled her out.

Samantha slapped Henry’s hand away from her cheek, tears crippling at her eyes. Henry’s gaze grew curious. “So he was the one your happiness was for. Maybe I should thank him.”

“Leave me the fuck alone.” Grunted Samantha and unpeeled herself from the lockers to chase after Mark. She swam through the crowd to get to the bar counter and reached for her backpack in a hurried motion. Changwook’s attention was diverted to her, and he had to look twice when he noticed her tears in his peripheral vision.

“Samantha—”

Samantha lifted her hand in the air to keep the distance and she dashed away, reaching the outside of the club a tad too late. The only sighting of Mark was the bouquet of flowers left desolately on a nearby bench. Samantha stretched her arms to lift it from the bleak wood and a card fell to the ground. She picked it up and a tear fell on the black ink inside the ceramic envelope. Mark’s handwriting lived inside, just for her.

Would you like to be my date?

The fifth call ended to voicemail. Samantha paced back and forth in her living room, fingers covering her mouth while the other hand was clenched on the phone. The moon hung high in the sky yet the translucent gleam painting over the flowers altered them to cast a painful sadness throughout Samantha’s house. She sat down on the couch, an inhibited tiny stream of tears flowing down her cheek. Samantha paid no attention to Murphy whose paws were patting all over her legs, in an attempt to soothe her sorrow. Poor thing couldn’t know why she was so sad, and she didn’t allow him to ease her mind. Murphy settled on curling himself against her feet, waiting patiently for her to let him in.

After some time spent in silence, she chuckled. The whole situation was, in fact, hilarious. Samantha leaned her back onto the couch, eyes fixated on the nothingness of the ceiling. At one point, she thought about going to Mark’s house. The impediment was that she did not know where he lived. And another impediment would be that he made himself clear he would not be happy with her company.

It was funny how things decided to play out the way they did. The perfume of the fresh flowers made her wonder if Mark picked them by himself. Mark was supposed to find out everything, she was supposed to tell him about Henry being the reason she so adamantly pushed him away. Mark was not supposed to see Henry so close in her proximity, touching her so familiarly and playing all the right cards to have her frozen in place.

Now Mark was everywhere, a permanent resident in her mind, a permanent resident in her soul, he was everything Samantha wanted and everything that was sliding away.

The rest of the night passed at an agonizingly slow speed. Samantha spent much of it on the couch, brown orbs dashing back and forth between the flowers on the coffee table and the dark screen of her phone. She managed to doze off for a little while, still aware of her surroundings, and the only scene that replayed in her mind was the handsome image of Mark, with the spending smile on his lips and the ruffle in his hairstyle. It stopped there, and it then replayed from the top. It was like nothing else existed.

It was then she took the decision to go and visit him directly at his studio. At the crack of dawn, Samantha gently awoke Murphy from her feet and took the opportunity to grab some fresh air while walking him. By the time she realized she hadn’t taken off her make-up, she could only hope the mascara was not smeared too much. Feeling a tad more refreshed after the walk, Samantha fed her little man and reassured him, with loving snuggles and pats in his fur, that he was loved and appreciated. With a little bark he must have understood the message.

Samantha took a shower to cleanse off the events of the previous night and went to put on her office outfit for the day. Having early consultations and a surgery check-up scheduled for the second part of the day, she texted her attending that she would join them some time after the rounds. Then, she texted Leena.

[To: Leena] morning Leena, will be late today for rounds, don’t wait up

[From: Leena] oh? Mark kept you up all night?

[To: Leena] something happened last night and we couldn’t be with each other

[To: Leena] I’ll tell you when we meet

[From: Leena] ok, I’ll cover for you

[From: Leena] I’m still good to go on OBGYN.

Mark’s group’s studio was not too far away from the hospital, and Samantha parked her motorcycle outside of the tall building. The sudden visit was not planned ahead by Samantha who let her feelings take the lead. Not the one to usually lose composure, it rarely happened for her to give her heart the reins. Samantha tied her helmet to the bike and strengthened her white coat under the leather motorcycle jacket.

Inside the building, the modern lobby was guarded by three security guards, with subtle movements but ever so vigilant. They cocked their eyebrows as the clicks of her heels echoed against the black marble, her hospital badge dangling by the pocket.

Samantha approached the receptionist’s desk. “Hi, my name is Doctor Samantha Stoss, I am looking for Mark Tuan.”

“Hello. I am sorry but the group is not expecting any visitors today. Should I say you dropped by?”

At the nearby elevator, Samantha heard two other dancers discussing choreography for Mark’s group and that they’d get breakfast before joining them. Which meant that Mark was there, at that exact moment. Samantha’s heart picked up a beat in her chest.

“Yes, thank you, I’ll wait in the visitor’s area for when he’ll be available.”

Samantha was guided by security to the floor where the group was at, and was instructed to wait in the lobby area, where a couple of other people were sitting. All the other people were too busy to notice the moment she left the lobby, to walk towards the hall with the practice studios. Most of the rooms were still devoid of light, except for a singular one at the far end of the hall, where muffled laughter animated the atmosphere. The echo of her heeled steps was reverberating in her ears, enough to stifle the emotions in her chest.

The door to the studio was open and Samantha stopped in the frame.

“Mark.”

Collectively, all the sounds dissolved into thin air, and all the other members stopped dead in their various stretching positions. Mark was sitting on the floor as he tilted his head backwards to look at Samantha. It seemed that, initially, he couldn’t believe Samantha was standing in their doorframe.

“Oh, so you are Mark’s girlfriend? You are astonishing.” Bambam tweedled and Jackson had to muffle his mouth to prevent him from saying anything further, notwithstanding with his own lips parted in blatant shock. One had to give it to him, he was good at breaking a brutal silence. A couple of paces nearby, Samantha noticed Jinyoung smiling at her and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say his greeting smile was razor-sharp. All of a sudden, Samantha wondered how Mark spoke of her to the guys. If he did, at all.

“Excuse us a moment, guys.” Mark straightened his body from the floor, his eyes never leaving Samantha’s silhouette. Samantha stepped aside, allowing Mark to walk by and guide them both to an empty studio nearby. He closed the door behind them with a powerful motion, which tied a knot in Samantha’s stomach.

She was searching for any sentiment in Mark’s posture, be it anger, sadness, excitement, anything it could have been. She was met with stoicism instead.

“You didn’t return my calls.” Began Samantha. Mark simply nodded. “And you haven’t texted back, either.”

“Yeah, I didn’t. Figured you’d be busy.”

The harshness of his words made Samantha wince. “Don’t do this Mark.”

“I’m not doing anything. We’re leaving again day after tomorrow and…”

He stopped for a moment and it took her breath away. Mark’s mask was slowly starting to fade away. It was then Samantha noticed his eyes were tired. They had so few moments together and an entire night out of those was ruined, because of Henry. Because of her.

“…we’re rehearsing a new set. So, I really have just a moment. Why are you here?”  

Samantha wanted to inch closer to him, to hug him, to get lost in his presence. She refrained from doing so. “I’m here because I missed you, Mark. Because last night was a huge misunderstanding and because you didn’t allow me to explain.”

“Explain?” Mark called out in an even voice, but his hand threw the hood of his sweatshirt to rake his hair in a precipitous movement. “You told me no one touched you since I left. That you don’t think anyone will. We were supposed to go out on a date, and I come pick you up to what?”

“Mark, listen to me—”

“Sam, he touched you like he knew you inside out, like he did that a thousand times before. “

“Mark, stop—”

“I don’t know you inside out.”

Samantha’s eyes narrowed to prevent another set of tears from forming behind her eyelids. Mark’s hands dropped to his sides as he took a deep, fatigued breath. “I know I’m just the sex but at least don’t lead me on if you have no other plans for us.”

“Mark, Henry is the more I needed to tell you about!”

Samantha raised her voice, and she didn’t realize a tear escaped away from its enclosure. At its sight, Mark’s features instantly soothed. “I took the flowers home Mark, thank you for not throwing them away. They were beautiful. Yes, I want to be your date, and yes, I am sad you are leaving so soon and I’m throwing us away. I want you to understand Henry has no place in my present, or in my future.”

“Henry,” Mark started, checking his smartwatch as it vibrated, “has a place in your present if he gets to touch you and halt your every move like he seemed to do last night. I gotta go. I’ll call.”

“Will you really?” Samantha exhaled, watching Mark’s back as he turned to walk away. He looked at her over his shoulder.

“Yes. I’ll call.”  

The ride back to the hospital was agonizing, even if fast. There were seeds of doubt and uneasiness planted into her mind. Part of her wanted to believe that Mark would call, and he’d grant her the chance to set the record straight, but the better part of herself pushed her to believe he would pack his bags and get out of her life. Samantha barely had time to gather herself together, just as she got ambushed right at the entrance by both Jonathan and Leena. And they were far from being happy.

“Would you care to tell us why Henry is back and why he’s so boastfully claiming to having you back?”

Jonathan’s voice woke Samantha from her trance. Without any warning, the events of the previous night stretched farther than Mark looking handsome and ready to sweep her off her feet.  

When we see each other tomorrow morning at the hospital, I’d really like to know why you stopped taking surgeries. Samantha felt like she was going to throw up.

“So, it was true.” she said quietly, arming herself with the realest impassivity she was able to forge.

“What do you mean it was true? Why is the bastard here?”

“Jonathan, I have no idea, okay?” Samantha turned to him, and Jonathan’s eyes noticed the anger blended with the heartache in her hazel irises. “He barged into the club last night, surprised me into the changing room and touched my cheek and it made my body tighten. Just as Mark opened the door and looked at me like I was the most disgusting whore on the planet. So, don’t fucking ask me.”

Leena reached to Samantha to envelop her in an embrace. “Sweetie, are you okay? Why didn’t you call me, either of us? Did you get any sleep?”

Samantha shook her head as she tightened the hug. “Not much, no. I went to see Mark this morning. Needless to say, it went badly.”

Jonathan was boiling with displeasure but if anyone saw him from outside, they’d never guess he was ire. Only by his glassy emerald eyes.

“What did he tell you, guys?”

“Certainly, didn’t speak much,” Jonathan concluded, and Leena had to slide her fingers over his knuckles to untighten his hand from the pressure. “He joined the rounds this morning, my neuro rounds. When chief asked for you, he said you’d had a rough night. Gosh, Sam, you should have called us because I was about to smash his head in, thinking he’d forced himself upon you.”

“I’m fine, Jonathan,” at least physically, she was. Mentally, Samantha was only just juggling the tumult. “Henry joined your rounds because there’s only one attending spot in neuro, we all knew.”

Samantha locked her eyes with Jonathan’s. “We’re not waging wars. I am going to walk in there, with my head held high, and I am going to confront him.”

“How can you be so calm? Why are you so calm? Henry’s got no place here, with none of us.”

In the distance, Samantha’s gaze fell upon Henry, absentmindedly flirting with a nurse, while his awareness was invested in her. If she allowed herself to give into her emotions, they would consume her entirely.

“That’s not for any of us to decide. It’s for you to decide if you’re better than him as attending.”

Jonathan couldn’t believe his ears. He was watching Samantha as she walked into the building, in a straight path to the devil. Within himself, he acknowledged she was not in the same spot Henry left her, two years ago. Jonathan was afraid that one wrong move would make her crumble.

“Good morning to you, my fair lady.” Henry shifted his position on the elbow leaning against the nurse’s station, to face Samantha with an inviting smirk. “Can I interest you with a coffee?”

“Doctor Carter,” Samantha acknowledged him, waiting for her charts to be delivered to the nurse’s station. Henry allowed his gaze to observe Samantha’s leather motorcycle jacket, over a tight crayon olive dress, and her doctor’s coat matching the white stilettos on her feet. Samantha was very aware of his charade. It was the same he used to win her from Jonathan, years ago. “No thank you, I’m drinking tea now.”

Henry chuckled, clasping his hands together. “Are you comfortable riding the bike on those gorgeous heels? Jimmy Choos?”

“Look, doctor Carter,” Samantha took the charts from the station, a silent smile directed to the nurse. At that point, not only did she realize she could not compare with Samantha, but she couldn’t keep up with Henry. “Let me set things straight. One, stop claiming me as if I’m some object. Two, I prefer not to intersect paths with you.”

“Oh? So why did you ditch lovely doctor Williams there to talk to me?”

At any given point, Samantha would have succumbed to Henry’s charms. But she took a good look at him, and he was not Mark, and he would never be. Henry had the element of surprise when his fingers brushed against her skin. Samantha was not completely sure her body would fight back should there be another intentional touch of his, but her mind was.

“You see, Henry,” Samantha looked up at him to counter the lingering smirk on his lips. Admittedly, Henry was surprised. “First time, it was on purpose. Second time, I want to set the record straight. Don’t touch me, ever again. I don’t know what your intentions are, but I want nothing to do with you.”

“Is that so?” Henry challenged and lowered his head to match Samantha’s gaze. She gulped, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. “Something tells me you’re not telling the truth.”

“Doctor Carter.” Jonathan’s even tone broke Henry’s stance. The latter fixed the collar of his coat.

“Doctor Williams! Let’s have a healthy competition, shall we? Rumor has it you’re racing for attending this year. And, of course,” he gestured to Samantha “you must have the support of most of the residents of this hospital.”

“What I can say to you is good luck. If you still have that nice camera, you can take a picture of me when I become attending.”

Henry laughed and waved a hand in a dismissive manner in the air, before walking away at his pager pinged. “Didn’t you choose neurosurgery just to try and steal Samantha from me? That’s a bit of wishful thinking on your side.”

Leena’s eyes widened at Henry’s claims, even more at Jonathan’s irritated lack of response. She then looked at Samantha who seemed familiar enough with the remark. Leena’s pager beeped soon after and followed in Henry’s steps, azure orbs lingering on Jonathan’s jaded ones. He was apologetic to her and the last time he saw Leena that day was bitter, with her disappointed expression.

Samantha’s phone started ringing in her pocket. She walked away towards her neo-natal ward and slid a hand to her pocket, answering before checking the number.

“Doctor Samantha Stoss, what can I help you with?”

“Didn’t know you recommended yourself like that when speaking, doctor Stoss.”

Samantha had to recompose herself, exhaling in relief. “Mark, hey. Sorry, morning was just crazy.”

Mark chuckled on the other line. “Doesn’t give you the chance to get bored. You can tell me all about your day tonight, if you wanna watch a movie at my place.”

Samantha giggled, allowing Mark to register her contentment. “Sounds… sounds very nice. Thank you, Mark.”

“Of course,” Mark’s voice adopted a sliver of a commanding tone, “I cannot guarantee we’re not going to have angsty sex before, or after. Or both.”

Samantha gasped. As much as Mark’s words provoked her womanhood, they also provoked anxiety. Anxiety that he’d end their hopes before they grew wings. “I’ll be there.”       

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[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More(M) - Three

~5k words, in this chapter we see how Mark and Sam navigate being apart from one another and how rain washes over the souls. Enjoy and don't hesitate to let me know what you think about it!

Don’t you want to try it? Are you scared to start? There’s no one you’ll find that’s quite like me.

Do you wanna take my broken heart?

Fame, music, concerts, freedom, artistry. In a fruitless attempt to sum up all that being an artist meant to Mark, the ability to walk up on the stage in front of as many as 60,000 people was exhilarating. It never stopped being meaningful. To inspire another person enough to have them watch and admire thyself was not only a privilege but also a responsibility.

Each concert began with the same mantra, it would be safe to assume for each of the seven members was the same. Each time they would walk on and make sure they enjoyed themselves to the maximum, as much as they made sure they would do their best. In the tumult of the shows, there was now something different.

All the love songs sounded a little different.

When the love song was hopeful, Mark performed happier. When the love song was desperate, Mark performed sadder. It all played a bigger part in the tapestry of each performance, but it would never go unnoticed by those closest to him.  With each show, the emotion grew little by little. And as much as Mark tried to dismiss it to the back of his head, it sneaked right back in when the lights turned down.

It always came back when he wanted to forget.

When the lights turned down over Jakarta, the boys were still bowing to the audience. Under the ravenous applause and the avalanche of confetti, the platform on the stage brought the boys down under the concert set. Another night ended in complete success.

Mark was the last one to dispose of his ear set. He stretched his arms above his head and felt a cramp starting to settle at his nape.

“Mark?” Jackson traced behind the group to match his pace with the other. “You good?”

“Yeah,” sighed Mark, massaging the tense muscles in his neck. “Just a little tired I guess.”

“Huh, we still have one week and a half to go, if you’re tired now... “ Jackson joked and nudged Mark with his elbow. “Getting old?”

Mark threw an arm around Jackson’s shoulder in a friendly hug. “No chance.”

“Passionate out there I’d say.” Jackson began, fidgeting. “Each concert getting only more passionate.”

“Yeah? Thanks. Aren’t we supposed to be like that?”

Silence.

“No?”

“I mean, sure.”

Jackson shrugged his shoulders. That’s when it hit Mark.

“Should’ve asked me to my face, Jackson.”

Jackson sighed. “I’m not good at subtleties!” He cleared his throat. “But you haven’t told us nothing in… ever since we left.”

“There’s nothing to tell, Jackson.”

Jackson stopped dead in his tracks, looking at the other with a much softer expression than he would have liked.

“There really isn’t.” Mark concluded, walking ahead of Jackson. “I am the sex. She was the sex. That’s it.”

Mark grabbed a bottle of water from an adjacent table to drown out the words, and the apparent reality. Spelling out loud that they never spoke after he flied out left a burn to his throat.

A couple thousand miles away, Samantha was jerking her body to the other side of the bed. She extended her hand to grab a hold of her phone. 2:15 AM. With a light groan, she threw her feet into her bed slippers, rose from the bed, and hugged her body into her bathrobe. Murphy perked an ear up in response to the sudden movement, but he was not interested enough to follow Samantha from his nest.

Samantha opened the kitchen window to fill her lungs with a breath of fresh air. When she unlocked her phone, she realized that her latest google search was still pointing to Mark’s band’s latest concert.

Jakarta: more than 20,000 fans delirious after boyband’s successful stop.

Live pictures from the concert were quick to flood the internet. Samantha’s finger hovered over a very flattering picture of Mark, half-naked on stage, his chiseled abdomen contracting with whatever movement he was making. One arm was lifted in the air to hype the crowd, the other holding up his microphone. The tattoo reaching over his right set of ribs was vivid to the eye.

The kiss in the locker of the club flashed into Samantha’s memory.

Samantha locked her phone and slid it across the kitchen counter, leaning herself against the window frame, with one arm hugging her side. To the contrary, what should have come to mind should have been the dirtier times, all the times her fingernails drew over his tattoos, reshaping them into muscle memory.

She sighed, her eyes fixated on the shimmering full moon. If she called, would he pick up?

“Probably not. He has all those girls to keep him busy.” Samantha lied to herself, unable to resist the urge to pick up her phone. She hesitated, reading Mark’s name on the screen over and over again. Until she tapped on it.

Once, twice… “Mark?”

The call went to voicemail. Her voice deflated in disappointment.

“All those girls to keep him busy.”

The next dawn, Samantha was already ready to leave for the hospital. Sleep was light and uncertain, and she tried to mask it with concealer and foundation. In a haste to leave the house, she grabbed her motorcycle helmet, to catch a ride in hopes of easing her mind.

Sun was cracking out on the horizon, tangerine hues intertwined with tamed shades of red. Samantha took a longer route to the hospital to enjoy the scenery. Chestnuts strands tossed out of the helmet were gliding freely in the wind in an enduring antithesis with her thoughts.

‘You’re going to have to find a replacement for me.’

Unbeknownst to her, Samantha’s hand switched another gear.

‘I cannot make love to you and leave the next day like I am the worst scum to have ever walked this Earth. I am not that guy.’

The motorcycle revved once again.

‘You are irresistible, you know that?’

Samantha reached the hospital faster than she anticipated. She took off her helmet and shook her head to the sides, ruffling her long strands in the process. She locked the bike and put her helmet under her arm, a high-pitched whistle distracting her from her thoughts.

“Nice suit, cat-girl,” Jonathan smirked, locking his Yamaha super sport bike some paces away from Samantha. “We should ride out together next time.”

“I’ll think about it.” She stated simply, taking the lead towards the entrance of the hospital.

“That’s it? No smart reply, no anything? Wow, did I do anything to offend you?”

Samantha threw out a chuckle. “Not necessarily, just didn’t get that much sleep.”

Jonathan caught up with her, entering the hospital at the same time. “Oh? Mind me asking why?”

“Yes.”

“Touche. But I can take a wild guess.”

“Don’t take a wild guess.” Samantha offered a polite smile to the nurse’s station, grabbing the medical documents of a case.

“How’s Romeo doing? Wait, is that a—”

“Yes Jonathan, I’ll take a consult today.”

Jonathan put a hand over his mouth in a mocked attempt to hide his shock. “No fucking way, are you actually coming back?”

“Wait and see!” Samantha chirped, walking away to her office, the bounce in her hair leaving Jonathan with a smile imprinted on his face.

“And I told him he should have bought Rome! If he’d bought Rome, he would’ve won that trade on the airport with you, Jinyoung!”

A hearty laugh filled the room as Mark and Jinyoung entered Mark’s hotel room. The sun was well up in the blue of Jakarta sky, sending its shimmering beams across the universe. A sleepless night passed for the seven boys, fighting one another to the death to the Monopoly title. Their departure was set in a couple of hours to Kuala Lumpur that left them at liberty to let a night’s sleep go by.

“Bambam’s sweet tooth for money, what can I say.” Jinyoung threw his body on the bed, eyes glued to the ceiling to revisit his winning strategy. “Truth be told, he never had a chance to win.”

“You just led him on.” Mark chuckled and walked to the bathroom. “I am going to take a shower to wash off the defeat.”

“You bet.” Jinyoung rolled over on his chest, hand reaching out for the phone in his pocket. His movement on the bed caused Mark’s phone to light up. The water in the bathroom was not running yet.

“Hey, Mark,” Jinyoung shouted for the other. “You have a missed call.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s voice echoed. “Text Joey and let him know I’ll call back.”

There was a delay in Jinyoung’s response. “It wasn’t Joey. It’s Samantha.”

The next thing he heard was the faltering sound of the water running in the shower. Mark stepped under the rapid droplets, closing his eyes. It had been 11 days since they’d last spoken and she only left an unpicked call behind. It was not like Mark was expectant of something else entirely to happen, but he did not know how to feel. Happy that she had reached out? Bitter that she had not tried more?

Mark slapped his hands against the cold tiles to steady himself. As vehemently as he tried to distance himself from Samantha, something tugged him closer. Mark felt like he walked one step ahead, and two steps behind. He kept reciting to himself that it was not real, the feelings he rejected to feel. He couldn’t allow himself to miss her.

Still, I miss you.

The bathroom door opened, and Mark walked into the room with a towel ruffling his damp hair.

“So?” Jinyoung spoke, thumb scrolling lazily on his Instagram. “Are you going to call her back?”

“Probably,” reacted Mark, almost choking on his own spit. Would it be pitiful to acknowledge to the other that, in fact, he was not as nonchalant as he wanted to let on? “when we leave later for the airport.”

“Huh.” Snickered Jinyoung, jolting himself to his feet. “Here I thought I’d get to hear that conversation.” He pursed his lips, tapping at his chin with an index. “Maybe some sort of a clarification for why she had not reached out until now?”

Mark rolled his eyes with a small smile on his lips. It wavered when Jinyoung stopped in the doorframe. “But I guess fuck buddies don’t really get such clarifications, huh?”

Two and a something hours later, the boys were prepared to leave the hotel and embark for the next stop on their tour: New Delhi. The lobby of the hotel was swarming with staff, luggage, and security, preparing for the group’s very public departure. The journey to the airport was as chaotic as ever for the boys, in a joyful and brotherly atmosphere which always eased Mark’s mind and heart. He was always beyond thankful for the company and friendship of all the boys. Each held their own piece of Mark’s.

While waiting for the private transport from the gate to their plane, Mark stepped aside from the group to make the call he owed. It should have been around 4PM in Seoul. He took an anticipative breath in his lungs and tapped on Samantha’s phone number. There shouldn’t have been a singular reason why he felt so expectant.

‘You aren’t making love to me Mark. We are having sex, it is just sex.’

“Do you really think about us like that?” he whispered under his breath, a hand reaching up to cover his face better with the mask.

Mark did not receive his chance to hear the voice of the person whom he wished to hear the answer from because the call got interrupted to voicemail. “Fuck.” The breath in his lungs rushed out, leaving blooming traces of disappointment attached to his veins. All at once, the 10-hour flight became burdensome. Mark switched his phone to airplane mode to join the boys, a wee piece of his heart shattering from the expectations that failed to come alive.

In an empty common room, Samantha was flipping through her patient’s chart, examining and re-scanning what the laboratory results and the obvious common sense were reiterating. Because of an unforeseen and tragic natural complication, her patient would have to choose to lose her pregnancy to save her life.

“How do you tell someone this?” Samantha mumbled to herself, resting her face in the warmth of her palm. She flipped the chart and sighed, closing her eyes for a loose second. She had grown too soft in the big shoes of a surgeon. But it ultimately was what made her a better surgeon.

“Hey,” Leena stopped by, in a rush to reach somewhere else entirely. “Did something happen? I was in a hurry to prepare for surgery, but I couldn’t ignore you here all sappy by yourself.”

“Yeah. This patient I saw today… I have to tell her she has to give up the baby to save her life. This is why I sometimes am at peace with my decision to step back from being a surgeon.”

“And all the other times when you are not at peace?” Leena seated herself by Samantha.

“All the other times are when I miss going in the OR. Like last time I went in with Jonathan. It was the thrill crawling back, until it made my fingers tingle.” Another sigh. “Then I try to heal and come back, and I have to tell a mother to kill her child. Is this fair?”

“No, it’s not. It’s not. But you must remember how many lives you’ve saved and how many you can save, still. Young lives, who don’t even know they are about to live.”

Samantha tilted her head to look at Leena who had a softened look on her face. “Yeah.” She concluded as Leena rose from her seat.

“I gotta go now, Sam. Think about it. We miss having you around the OR. My girl power team lost all that power.” Leena gestured dramatically with her hands. “Maybe it’s a stretch but I think Mark would say the same to you, if he were here.”

“What?” Samantha exhaled. “Why are you thinking about Mark?”

Leena perked in the distance, as she was walking away “Because you won’t!”

And true she wasn’t. Samantha leaned back down in the chair, eyes obsessed with the ceiling of the office. It pained a little, both her ego and her wishes. Reason would say he couldn’t have picked up in the middle of the night, through the thousands of little things he had to attend to in the middle of a world tour, on top of probably the fatigue kicking in. Against reason, Samantha would tell herself anything to keep herself from hurting. Lies were always easier. Truth was always justifiable.

Truth was, Mark was everything she didn’t picture him to be.

Samantha gathered the scattered chart off the desk and mustered her courage to fill the big shoes of the surgeon she knew herself to be. Ever since Mark stumbled in the bar that night, to curl her hair through his fingers in a cheeky endeavor to rescue her from a vulgar stranger, with the smooth smile and the glimmer in his eye, Samantha’s life felt like it finally took a seat, on a vast green plain under the night sky. When pausing for oneself started to matter.

The rest of the day felt differently after Samantha decided to take charge. She went ahead and had the talk with the family whose happy hope vanished from their fingers. Then she offered to take lead of the surgery. The way she used to carry herself was slowly returning, with all the responsibility and the dignity. It was then she realized she did miss saving lives.

“So I guess it’s time to ask again about riding together? On the bikes, of course.” Jonathan laughed at his own joke, which brought a smile to Samantha’s own lips.

“You know what?” Samantha said, turning up the engine and securing herself atop of the seat. “I’m going to say pass for tonight, but let’s do it some time. It’s just been a full day today.”

“So I’ve heard,” Jonathan said, climbing in his seat and undoing his helmet. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Samantha chuckled. “I know I don’t really take you at your word, most of the time. But I do appreciate you being in my life Jonathan.”

Jonathan threw his head away to veil his content expression. There were times like that one when Samantha wished she knew what was going on through his head. “Someone has to stick around, until prince charming rides back from his tour. Saw he got all naked and whatever up there. Not cool.”

“Mhm. Not cool for someone who asks prince charming how sex with me is.”

Jonathan almost dropped his helmet to the ground.

“Why would you ask him that?”

He raked his hair with his fingers, the previous content expression fading into a longing one. “Because it is part of why I made that bet with you when you were hopelessly drunk and so was I and I hoped we’d wake up and forget.”

It was almost puerile that they both remembered an inebriated bet to sleep with one another when they both had the desirous impulse of the body to do that on the spot. And, somehow, they did not go through with it.

“Jonathan—”

“You should have lied to me and told me you forgot. I would’ve made allowances for how your skin felt against my own. You didn’t even kiss me on the mouth you know?”

Jonathan kicked the jack of his motorcycle. “And trust me, I am actively working on giving up on you but it’s one hell of a job. So yes, that’s why I asked him how sex with you was, to get some closure. And Romeo proved to be almighty with it.” He threw one last look at the girl, and it caused Samantha’s breath to hitch in her throat. Under the alabaster streetlight, Jonathan looked so vulnerable. “Bear with me as I’m giving up on you.”

Keys rumbled against the glassy surface of the living room coffee table. The helmet bounced on the cushions of the sofa in a hasty attempt for Samantha to undress off her riding suit. Samantha plopped into the depth of the couch, skin getting goose bumps from the cold material. It was already the depth of the night when she finally managed to catch a stable breath. The roughness of the day found refuge in her nape, pressing unpleasantly in her muscles. Murphy came running towards her, jumping in an agile motion on the couch beside her. The contact of his fur against her skin eased the pressure in her body. Samantha twirled Murphy’s coat through her fingers, and the dog snuggled closer into her side. He perked up at her, always receptive of her mood.

With the other free hand, Samantha hastily searched for her mobile phone. The silence in her house echoed loudly, in sync with her accelerated thoughts. Jonathan’s confession ripped a band-aid which she did not believe she had. She felt guilty for the impulsive decisions she took a long time before, which still reflected into their present. Almost like a butterfly effect. Had she chosen Jonathan back then, would she have suffered the same heartbreak by his side? Would they have parted, or would they have thrived? Would she have avoided the public humiliation in the hospital?

Would she have met Mark?

The silvery radiance of the moon tiptoed into the living room through the crack of curtains, settling on the black screen of Samantha’s phone. It was repelled by the quick motion to turn the gadget on, an even quicker one to reach Mark’s phone number. A very late observation that he had called her back.

Would she have felt the same need to reach out to any other man, same as she did to Mark? A sliver of a breeze trembled through the thin material of the curtains, disturbing the lull of the house. In that natural equilibrium, the moonlight painted Samantha’s features in an artificial calm. Her heartbeat picked up in her chest.

Samantha drew her breath in sharply when the call connected.

“Mark? Hey, I know it must be late wherever you are, I wasn’t expecting you to pick up. How are you?”

She must have spoken fast, precipitated, in a much too evident surprise and much too little preparation for the feelings raging in her ribcage. All the stupid childish reasons of Mark being and keeping away took the reins.

“I’m sleeping, babe.”

Mark’s voice was low and coarse, at times breathy. Unbeknownst to him, Mark played with her heartstrings, with the ease with which he called her that affectionate name. He could not have meant that.

“Sure, no I’ll let you sleep, I’m sorry I disturbed you—”

“…don’t go. Missed your voice.”

Samantha took her phone away from her ear reflexively to double-check it was indeed Mark whom she was speaking to. On the other line, a faded puffing sound confirmed he was still there, as if he was adjusting his position.

“You there?”

“Yeah, I am, I just… you took me by surprise.”

“Mhm. You, too.”

A gust of wind played with the calescent air in Samantha’s living room. Through Mark’s groggy voice she couldn’t tell if he was upset, sad, or even remotely happy with her for contacting him.

“Just know I’m kinda drunk, so I might say shit.” Mark snickered, which caused Samantha to emit a giggle of her own. She had a palpable reason to blame Mark’s drunkenness for her heart’s quiver. “Drank our minds off with the boys. Middle of the evening.” Another snicker.

He was devastatingly alluring.

Samantha’s voice eased to Mark’s, a lonely index tracing the naked skin of her abdomen. The moon shifted, as if following the movements of the hand in a trance. “You’re too coherent to be drunk. Any special reason for the celebration?”

“Guess we felt like. Don’t know about them but I had a reason.”

Samantha took the bait. “Oh? How so?”

A sharp breath echoed on Mark’s side of the line, closely followed by another sharp exhale. “Promise you won’t get upset with me?”

Samantha’s eyebrows rose with curiosity, yet the heart in her ribcage threatened to stop beating. “I won’t.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you.” But Mark stopped himself once again to prolong the anticipation Samantha prepared herself for. Maybe he would tear the scar open and confess he’d slept with others, that he went ahead and made good of their agreement, that he did not care. Or maybe that he was enough of a good guy to at least let her know he’d touched other women, that he’d heard other women scream his name in the intimacy of his sheets—

“I missed you.”

The sound of thunder reverberated in the infinity of the sky and a glim of lightning flashed in the darkness of the living room to put a halt to Samantha’s life. A strong current awoke goosebumps on Samantha’s skin, akin to Mark’s tender touch whenever he pulled her body to hide into his own.

Mark continued. “But I know you don’t miss me cause heck, you would’ve called a lot more than once, so cheers to me. You’ll say, ‘why are you an asshole cause you didn’t call either’, and you could be right.” A short pause. “I actually could be the asshole.”

What was Samantha supposed to say? How was she supposed to form coherent thoughts in her mind when Mark singlehandedly went and kicked away all rationality had to offer? In the tone of his voice, Samantha felt resentment. A resentment directed at himself for wishing he’d done better.

I should have done better, Mark.

“No, Mark, don’t say that about yourself. You could be anything but an asshole.”

I missed you too, Mark. And I didn’t want to.

“No, it’s fine. Absolutely fine. I’m just sex. You’re just sex. We’re just sex, nothing more, right?”

A sudden downpour started falling over the horizon, in a ghastly chase to envelop the night sky of Seoul. The sound of droplets played in a staccato rhythm, brushing against the tall glass windows of Samantha’s house. The restless curtains danced however the wind dictated, to cast shadows of the moon over her features, now rigid from the amalgam of emotions pirouetting through her being.

If she hadn’t met Mark, would she have wished to grant herself a second chance so easily?

Samantha rose lazily from the couch, leaving Murphy behind to meditate in his calmness. She carried herself to the windows, gripping the handle to open one of them, and ultimately seated herself on the windowpane. She extended one leg to feel the rain. “Do you hear that, Mark?” she spoke ultimately, tears gathering at her eyelids.

“Is that rain?” replied Mark, accompanied by a hissing sound. “It’s pouring in New Delhi, too.”

“It feels so cold on my skin.”

Another thunder trembled in the sky.

“I’m so jealous.”

“Jealous? Jealous on what?”

“All this rain is getting to touch you and I’m not.”

Samantha brought one knee to her chest to lean her cheek against it. If it was raining in New Delhi, it meant that maybe, just maybe, her and Mark could both look at the same sky.

It took a considerable amount of effort for Mark to push himself straight outside of bed. He couldn’t remember at what time the boys got back to the hotel, at what time he fell asleep, and he couldn’t remember why he recognized Samantha’s voice without even knowing it was her who called. With each reply exchanged between them, Mark was driving back to reality, a reality where both him and Samantha were looking at the same sky.

He walked over to the window of his hotel room, peeling it open to fully pick up the song of the rain. There was a tiny table adjacent to the window where he prompted his body, head leaning against the pane, and the free arm toying with the beads rushing down from the sky.

A reality where he was catching feelings for a woman who did not feel the same.

“It feels so cold on my skin too, beautiful.”

Maybe it was because of the same sky they both were watching but it felt like Samantha was smiling. “Why would you be jealous?”

“I should be, shouldn’t I? When something other than me is touching my fuck buddy.”

There was a pause on the other line. Rain was feeling tougher against Mark’s forearm.

“No one has touched me since you left, Mark. Don’t think anyone will.”

It was too good to be true. He did not believe her, could not believe her. Mark retreated his arm and raked his fingers through his hair. The coldness of summer rain made him flinch.

Mark was playing a game he knew he’d already lost.

“Do you think about us? Do you think about me, how I’m touching you?”

“Yeah, I do. I did today.”

Mark’s mind replayed their kiss in the club’s locker room.

Samantha’s mind replayed their kiss in the club’s locker room.

“Do you like the way I’m touching you?”

Mark’s mind replayed their hug in the club’s locker room.

Samantha’s mind replayed their hug in the club’s locker room.

“I do.”

“I guess you still want me to fuck you, then.”

Samantha’s lack of response gave Mark the opportunity to glue his eyes to an outward building which still kept its presence through the water veil. The buzz of the alcohol was still messing with his head, and with his emotions. He shouldn’t had gotten so attached to a game plan, he should had cared enough back in the club when Samantha stated she was not interested. There was just something about her that kept reeling him in, which only amplified with each touch they shared, doubled with each kiss, tripled with each moan she’d mewl, calling out his name.

At the end of the day, the heart wants what it wants. And the heart shuddered at the thought of her moaning any other name than his.

“Hey Sam, I gotta go. I’m supposed to be waking up in 3 hours to rehearse the setting for the concert.”

This time, it was Sam. Not ‘babe’, not ‘beautiful’, just ‘Sam’. Bleak, obscure, a name. Samantha feared a simple name that carried no meaning. It was supposed to carry a meaning.

“Are you frustrated with me, Mark?” she breathed out, the tears rolling down her cheeks at the thought.

“What? No, I’m not. I’m not. Promise.”

“How long will you be gone, still? I hope it’s not that long because I’m naked and I am sitting on the windowpane, hoping that this rain will make me recall how your hands felt against my skin, and it’s not you and I cannot recall how your hands felt against my skin, Mark.”

Clouds wrecked into one another to release a rambunctious roar.

Mark sighed, and it almost broke Samantha’s heart. Then he laughed, and suddenly, the world came alive.

“Okay, let me guide you to remember, hmm?”

“Guide me.”

“If you lay your hand to the side of your neck, cupping it, but not too tight, and a bit far back, you’ll remember it is my favorite spot to hold when we hug.”

In thorough obedience, Samantha did just as Mark instructed her to. She closed her eyes, picturing Mark’s silhouette right by her side.

“Now, if you lower your hand to your side, not too low on the hip, and drum your fingers against the flesh, you’ll remember it is my favorite spot to tickle you.”

The action made Samantha giggle loudly, almost the same as Mark used to. “I am ticklish there, yeah.”

Mark laughed, and Samantha couldn’t see, but he laughed heartily. “Yeah, I know. Now, if you go further and caress a trail from your lower belly all the way to your clit, you’ll remember it is my favorite spot to make you pant. Right before I slide a finger inside you.”

Samantha followed Mark’s voice until her middle finger caressed over her womanhood, a loud whine erupted from the back of her throat. “Oh no, no, don’t even think about doing it. The last part is left for me to do.”

She unexpectedly stopped, Mark’s charm still working strongly. “How did you know I wanted to do that?”

“I know what your body is telling me, angel. It’s just you I need to know more about. I’ll be back in a week and a half, can you hold out for me this long? I can always talk you through it if you think you can’t.”

Samantha scoffed jokingly, draping her hand around herself instead. A week and a half felt to her like an eternity. When Mark had her wrapped around his finger like a marionette, when he knew when to go back to calling her endearingly, when he so easily confessed it was hard on him, as much as it became hard on her, the time stopped dilating as fast. Another bolt of lightning pierced the night sky, casting a porcelain light over her body.

“When you come back to me, Mark, I’ll tell you about the more you want to know.”

Next

[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More(M) - Two

~5k words - please, enjoy!

I see you as a stranger but it’s different… I have those marks of love, my soul is hurt. Can’t you stay closer when the lights turn down, so that you’ll feel you don’t have me?

“Then what? You just casually claimed you’re fine to be her fuck buddy?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll have sex, at the expense of her telling you more about herself?”

“…yes.”

“You’re stupid.”

Jinyoung grabbed at the bridge of his nose before dropping down on the leather chair of the practice studio.

“I’m not?” Mark said with some sort of reinforced conviction, like that was his brightest accomplishment. “It’s pretty fair, if you ask me.”

“Fair?” Jinyoung repeated, leaning forward on top of his knees. “You know absolutely nothing about this girl, for which you are developing an unrequited affection.”

“I know things.”

“Like?”

Mark opened his mouth to answer but the words ceased to exist. With Jinyoung cocking his eyebrow and a half-mockery half-pitiful expression plastered on his face, Mark realized he really did not know much.

“She’s, uhm, a manager at Seoul Medical Private practice.”

Jinyoung nodded, as if prompting Mark to continue talking.

“And a part-time bartender.”

“Mhm. I suppose that’s it.”

 “That’s it.”

A sigh escaped through Mark’s lips. “But isn’t this the whole point of casual sex? You don’t ask questions and you don’t seek answers.”

“Except you are doing both, one-sidedly.” Jinyoung rose from his seat to place a hand on Mark’s shoulder, not trying to mask the evident worry in his eyes. “You’re not that guy.”

Mark looked at the other, and ultimately away. The silence of his reflection in the studio mirror was interrupted by the other 5 members, crowding the room with their usual infectious cheerfulness. Before breaking away from Mark, Jinyoung patted him on the shoulder and pursed his lips into a small smile. “You’re not that guy”.

“Knock-knock,” Jonathan’s voice chirped before leaning his tall body against the doorframe of Samantha’s new office. “I like this room. It’s much more spacious and you finally have big windows. Think you can grow a plant in here?”

Samantha put her pen away after having signed a document. She smiled up at Jonathan. “What can I help you with, Doctor Williams?”

Jonathan took the liberty to look around the office, searching for something specific. It still was there, Samantha’s doctor coat, dropping from the hanger. “I have an interesting case, which I’ll probably definitely operate on.”

She knew where that was going. “And?”

Jonathan stopped by the hanger, tracing his fingers over the white ironed material. “And I want Doctor Stoss to scrub in with me.”

“I am not a neurosurgeon, last time I checked.”

“But you agree that you’re still a surgeon.”

Samantha looked back at the wooden surface of the desk, trying to busy herself with anything other than that discussion Jonathan knowingly started. “Then again, I was not a neurosurgeon”.

The man came over to the desk, prompting his hands on either side of it. He leaned closer to Samantha, forcing her to look up at him. “I have a 7-month-old pregnant woman with a tumor on her brain. I want the best OB-GYN resident in this hospital to scrub in with me and deliver the baby or keep the baby in safely.”

She looked away. Jonathan peeled a hand off from the desk to bring up to her chin, on a tender touch. “I will repeat that if you think you didn’t hear it clearly enough”.

“Jonathan, I’m not ready.” Samantha breathed shakily and had to close and squeeze her eyes in an attempt to keep that past incident away from surfacing violently. “I’m not ready.”

Jonathan let his hand slide further to caress the fragile skin of her cheek. “Let us help you. Let me help you. We all know that wasn’t on you.”

“What’s it to you?” Samantha opened her eyes to pierce into the other’s emerald ones. Jonathan jerked his head back in surprise, the contact between them breaking in response. The tip of his tongue wet the bottom lip and exhaled an exasperated sigh.

“It is that you chose that bastard over me. It also is that I loved you and I am beating myself up everyday you are not picking up the damn scalpel. I should have beat him much more than I did.”

“Jonathan—”

He pushed forward. “And now that you finally threw him out of your life, and a good part of your life for that matter, you keep away from me. I am still here.”

Samantha’s eyes were pacing back and forth between his features, his eyes, and his lips, as if trying to grasp the words he was speaking and put them together in such a manner that made sense. She looked at him with a look that was stuck somewhere between past and present, a look that let him know everything was a mistake. A look that also let him know there was no way to rewrite the past. And he wished he hadn’t seen that look.

“You don’t love me, Jonathan. I can’t have you trying to love two women at the same time. Not when one of them is just a ghost in your memory.”

He scoffed. Samantha did not let him speak. “You stopped loving me the moment I made my choice. And it’s okay. Because I don’t hold any grudge against you. Because you love Leena.”

Jonathan straightened his body and Samantha could not read his expression. “Let me go.”

“He killed that woman, Sam. He did. He was desperate to show off to the Chief.”

“Jonathan, I am not having this discussion—”

“You trusted him against your better judgement. You couldn’t have saved neither of them—”

“Jonathan, get out.”

The man lifted both his hands to signal he was giving up. “I can’t let you go, Sam. I just can’t. You’re losing yourself and you’re not picking up my hand. You used to take us by the hand.”

Samantha turned her chair away from Jonathan and fixated her eyes on a void point outside the window. Her brain triggered the moments she tried shoving away like skeletons in a closet. She wanted to desperately believe skeletons do not always come back.

“I assume we’re still meeting to go out tonight. We’re supposed to celebrate the new manager.”

The last thing she heard was the sound of the door slamming violently behind. Before a tear dropped loosely, Samantha thought about Mark.

In the fervent ruckus of practicing and perfecting their next concert, which was set to start in 6 days, the guys, drenched in sweat, with their ankles hurting after more than 5 continuous hours, decided to take a water break. Mark dropped to the ground, crossing his legs, and holding his body up with his arms. Before Jackson threw him a towel, Mark thought about Samantha. It had been a couple of days since they’d heard from one another.

“Hey, Mark,” Bambam chirped, a cheeky tone blatantly carrying his words “girlfriend’s calling.”

Mark’s head perked up almost instantly.

“She’s not his girlfriend.” Jinyoung breathed, pouring what was left of the water in the bottle on his head.

“I don’t think she’s not his girlfriend” Jackson joined in, throwing the shirt over his head.

“Could you stop making assumptions?” Mark jolted from his place, eager to try and put an early end to the teasing he was just about to receive. “I swear to God, if I am picking up this phone and you’ll be hovering over my shoulders, I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

Youngjae placed his hands protectively over the threatened jewels. “Don’t hit hard?”

At that point, he gave up.

“Hey stranger.”

“Hey,” she answered on the other end of the line, with a slight delay. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you earlier.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. It’s quite actually none of my business.” Mark saw in the mirror the displeased expressions of Jackson and Jaebom, while Yugyeom and Bambam covered their mouths dramatically. ‘That’s bad’, Jackson mouthed to Jinyoung.

Against his expectations, Mark was met with silence on the other line. Suddenly, he felt awkward for the first time since meeting her. Mark never meant to sound accusative. If anything, he might have waited for her to text. “I mean, part of the deal, right?”

“…yeah.”

 “Listen, I didn’t mean that. It’s just been a very long day.” A small pause, in tune with all the other members who seemed to have drawn in their breaths for what Mark would have said next. “I can use some good company. If you want to meet up?”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good to me.”

Mark was not convinced it sounded good to her. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, do you want to meet tonight?"

Another pause. “I cannot really meet tonight, I have surgery.” She heard his sharp gasp. “Not surgery on me, surgery on someone else. I’m, uh, a resident.”

“A resident? A surgical resident?” There was a collective gasp from all of the boys, accompanied by shocked faces staring at Mark in the mirror.

“You didn’t take me as the smart type, huh? I guess smart people don’t have fuck buddies after all.”

“No, that’s—”

“Listen, I have to go. For the record, I didn’t call to get you to bend me over the table. I… I wanted to see how you were doing. Bye.”

Mark did not have any chance to protest before the dial tone echoed in his ear. The phone slid away from his ear, intrigued initially, then a furrow between his eyebrows made him wonder what he did wrong for her to dismiss him like that.

“A surgical resident,” Jaebum repeated, gesturing with his hands like an orchestra conductor to calm down the overly excited group. “That’s cool.”

“Cool? That’s fucking insane. Do you think I could find an arrangement like yours?” Bambam blurted out and earned a smack on the head from the leader. Jinyoung followed Mark with his eyes. He sensed the uncertainty and the sliver of self-doubt oozing from the other. Just when he was about to say something, Jackson went over to start the music set, to rescue Mark from the dozens of questions he was about to receive, to which he held no answers. Jinyoung thanked him with a head dip.

Jonathan was cleaning his hands when the OR doors slid open. He couldn’t hide the evident shock on his face, not that it mattered. For all he knew, he wanted her to see the shock imprinted on his face.

“Don’t tell me.”

The shock deepened when he noticed she was dressed in surgical scrubs. Then a sly smirk on his face. “You look so hot dressed like this.”

Samantha kicked the water tank with her foot, choosing not to add any comment.

“I missed you.”

She gasped at the other’s confession. Her head tilted for her to look over her shoulder in the depth of his eyes. Coming to the OR was impulsive, an impulsive decision after Mark reiterated their arrangement. Samantha knew it sounded frivolous. Only then did she truly register the words Jonathan said to her. The memories, the hope, the dream. With all the disappointments they carried. Before she knew, she found herself in the OR.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I might push you against the wall and you’d lose the bet.”

“Doesn’t that make you the loser?” she retorted, a smirk stretching the corners of her lips. “I’m just observing, that’s it. There is already a GYN resident in there.”

Jonathan shook his hands lightly to dispose of the surplus of dripping water. He turned to her as he kicked the OR door open, and if Samantha did not know any better, she would say he was relieved of her presence. “Not if you kissed me first.”

Pacing was not Mark’s way of coping with things in general. For what sentiment he paced that evening, in the lobby hall of the hospital, he could not tell. No one likes hospitals in particular, but it wasn’t the hospital’s fervid smell of chlorine that provoked Mark’s pacing. It was Samantha’s sharp dismissal that stained his thoughts. And he didn’t care, or that’s what he kept trying to convince himself of. Jinyoung’s words popped in his mind yet again.

You’re not that guy.

When he braced himself to stop pacing, he approached the nurse’s station. “Hi, good evening. I am looking for Samantha…”

The awkward pause sneaked in. A woman whose last name he had no idea about, who was supposed to be his casual sex call.

“She’s a manager here at this hospital.”

“Oh, Doctor Stoss you meant. Yes, the surgery in OR 4 has just ended, she should be here any minute with Doctor Williams.”

Mark did not get enough time to thank the nurse when he got distracted by an electrifying sound he himself had caused before. His attention turned magnetically toward the source of the joyful laughter, only to be met by Doctor Jonathan Williams, with his hands in his jeans pockets. He was making Samantha laugh.

“Mark?” she turned to him in a blink, same way Jonathan turned to her.

“So you’re the Mark,” Jonathan said, faking one of his best smiles. Samantha was too taken aback to realize Jonathan was, in fact, a tad bothered by the other’s presence.

Mark quirked an eyebrow involuntarily at the other man. He was exactly as Samantha described him, tall, handsome, cocky. Trustful. And he knew about them two, which could have changed the situation. Complicate it.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here is all, Mark. I told you I had surgery.”

“Yeah, no, I heard, I wanted to make sure you were fine.” If it weren’t for his fingers numbing from his tightened grip around the Lindt chocolate box, he would have forgotten about them entirely. Mark extended his arm towards Samantha in a successful but unforeseen attempt to leave her speechless. It was Jonathan’s turn to cock an eyebrow.

“You shouldn’t have…” Samantha looked up at Jonathan. She was growing annoyed with his displeased antics. Not that Mark would know. “I am busy tonight, we’ll gather with Leena to celebrate, you know. Me.”

“Totally.” Mark nodded with a serene expression. “I will go. If we don’t see each other again before I go, it was nice enough seeing you like this, Doctor.”

There was something about his serene smile that tied a knot in Samantha’s stomach. In her imagination, Mark was not supposed to be that. He was not supposed to come looking for her, to bring her chocolate and call her endearingly on her title. He was not supposed to sketch a hue of pink across her face. Mark was supposed to sleep with her and forget about her.

“Go where? I wouldn’t say you are leaving,” Leena chimed in, allowing her curly hair to bounce freely against her short-sleeved shirt, “though we won’t force you to join us for drinks.”

“Ah, as much as I’d love to,” Mark replied, his eyes searching for Samantha once again, “I wasn’t invited. I’m not barging.”

“We’re inviting you now.” Jonathan cleared his throat and painted a puzzled expression on Samantha’s face. “You said so yourself, you would love to, would you not?”

Mark hesitated. He suddenly pondered over the fact that a fuck buddy would not meet the other’s friends.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel pressured by these two anyway.”

“No, I… I think I’d love to.”

Saturday night in a popular high-profile club in Seoul city could rival all levels of imagination. Stories that would go unknown for all eternity, on people who’d enter the club to enjoy, to fool around, to forget, on a busy dancefloor, with extravagant lights and liquor. Samantha’s cousin had one of the most sought-after clubs of the capital and on good merit. It hit Samantha that she never did face the other side of the bar counter. It had always been easier to be the one serving the poison than the one to drink it.

The reservation for Samantha’s group was made on a booth better shielded from the crowded center of the club. She waved a hand at the security guys outside and guided the four of them to their spot.

“Wow, I can’t believe I never came to this club,” said Jonathan with a newly discovered admiration for the place.

“Maybe your relationships would have been more successful.” Leena stuck his tongue out at him and the other rolled his eyes at her remark. Albeit hiding a smile behind the façade.

Mark guided Samantha to take her seat first and the latter offered a smile. She refused instead.

“I’ll go get the drinks because I am that cool and that fast. What would you like to have?”

Not long after Samantha disappeared in the nightly crowd, Mark took a seat somewhat cornered by the curious eyes of Samantha’s friends. One would say that, with all the public attention and the fame, he would get used to the squinting.

“So, you and Sam,” Jonathan begun, rolling the sleeves of his shirt as if preparing himself for some sort of a confrontation with the other man. “How’s it going?”

“Fine? I think.” He replied much less inconsistently than he would have hoped. Truth be told, he did not really know how to reply to such a question. The answer would have been straightforward for someone who sleeps with another person for fun but one does not consider verbalizing how such a relationship would ‘be’. When it is not even a relationship. “She’s amazing.”

“I bet she is.”

“Jonathan!” Leena smacked his shoulder. “Please forgive him, we have been friends since college, and he gets over-protective over her sometimes…”

Mark pondered over the girl’s words. If he would not want to be involved with Samantha, he wouldn’t mind about their arrangement. “It’s totally fine. I am a stranger who sleeps with your friend. Nothing more.”

The conversation was cut short by Samantha returning with the tray of drinks. After serving everyone, more out of habit than anything else, she seated herself beside Mark. “So, what did you two press Mark about?”

Jonathan raised both his eyebrows and his glass in a swift motion, to grab a solid gulp of his whiskey on the rocks. “Nothing in particular.”

“So, a surgeon, huh?” Mark took a hold of his dark beer to mimic Jonathan’s earlier gesture. “Can you do both? Management and save lives?”

Samantha looked down at her glass to swirl the straw around. Mark was not ill intended, and she also was not prepared to reveal too much about herself. She never planned to do so anyhow.

I want you to tell me about you in exchange.

“I took a step back from surgery for a while. It became a bit overwhelming. But I did not want to leave the hospital and the community, so I applied for a more ‘business’ like job. Now I am manager.”

“Today was just her first step coming back to surgery full time.” Jonathan smiled and shot a wink to Samantha’s direction.

Leena immediately became confused. “Surgery? You went into surgery today?”

Samantha looked over at Jonathan with a piercing look. Mark figured she had not revealed that to the other woman. “Jonathan told me he had a 7-month-old pregnant woman with a brain tumor. He came to me to ask me to scrub in. I just watched the fetal monitor, that’s all. Luckily, there was no need to step in.”

“Interesting,” concluded Leena to take a sip of her Margarita. “Samantha, can we have a word?”

Samantha looked over at Mark with an apologetic look. Guilt started building up that she purposely dragged him into her personal life. Mark raised his bottle once again, with his lips pursed into a silent surrender. It was flattering, in a way, that she honored her half of their agreement. With each word sent out into the world by the three of them, Mark’s curiosity blossomed. Perhaps more eager and too easily.

“So, how’s the sex?”

Mark choked on the beer. “I’m sorry?”

“Nah, I am just curious how a stranger in a bar got in her bed.”

Ah, thought Mark. Jonathan did not know.

“I am not entitled to tell you that.”

“Heroic.”

“You actually went into surgery? And you did not think to tell me, as well?”

Samantha looked at Leena. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen that mixture of hurt and betrayal on the other’s face. “It was impulsive. Johnny came to my office to tell me about his case, and then we sort of fought—”

“Why did you fight about?”

The moment Samantha put her hands on her hips, Leena knew. “Fought about you.”

“It’s not what you think—”

“He still hasn’t let go of you. Did you tell him that Mark is your fuck buddy?”

Silence. “I see. It’s not like you’re trying too hard to push him either.”

“Leena I don’t want him, I don’t love him. And he loves you. It’s quite visible with the naked eye.”

“It’s not when the moment you fuck another guy, he becomes all protective over a woman who is not even his to begin with!”

Leena stopped in her tracks, almost in disbelief that she let something out which she did not consider she would. Samantha grabbed her by the wrist to tug her through the crowd.

“What are you doing?” screamed Leena over the booming music.

“I am tired of being the middleman between you two fools. He is crushing so hard over you and as cocky and almighty you say he is, he is a coward. So, you’ll speak to him while I have sex in the back room. 30 minutes enough?”

By the time the girls returned to their booth, Leena had not been given the choice to ingest the newly divulged pieces of information. The two arrived in the evasive silence of the two men who could have prayed for a disaster to occur so that they’d escape the involuntary cage they’d been placed under.

“Leena has something to talk to you about Jonathan. So, while you two resolve your lover’s quarrel, I am going to steal Mark from this table.”

Mark extended his body upwards faster than he would have liked to and put his hands together in a silent apology. He threw one last look over his shoulder at the two surgeons and then had to concentrate on his feet to follow an apparently flustered Samantha. The woman guided the two into a room to the far back of the club.

A small room, still neatly decorated with a tall mirror, half a dozen lockers, and all the necessities an employee starting their shift would need. Samantha slammed the door behind them and locked it in an agile movement of the wrist. She prompted her body against the door to relieve a sigh.

“You know, against all odds, I like your friends.” Mark chuckled and took a couple of steps to seat himself on the closest chair. “A bit intense but they seem like genuine people.”

“You don’t say.”

The day had been full and heavy of unsettled emotions for Samantha. Rarely do plans turn out to be exactly how you imagine them. Samantha’s plan was to enjoy a managerial Saturday, having drinks and getting drunk in her favorite club, not reminiscent of the cold past but optimistic of the unexplored future. She could not find a plausible explanation of why she joined the surgery in the evening, of why she allowed Mark to enter a significant piece of her life in meeting her friends.

Only, she did know the explanation for all of the events. She joined in surgery because Jonathan was right. She allowed Mark to enter her life because he exceeded all her expectations of him, because, in a split of a moment, she acknowledged she wanted him to get to know her. To know the great OB-GYN resident that she was.

And this shattered the reality from under her feet.

He was supposed to be a tight hug that turned into sex. Nothing more.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Samantha did not realize when Mark stood up to enter her proximity. His hand found her cheek in a motion that was so natural he surprised himself of it.

She was supposed to be a tight hug that turned into sex. Nothing more.

“Yeah. I am tired of all these unrequited feelings and of all these unspoken memories and I just hope Jonathan lets me go already so he can be with Leena.”

Samantha smiled tiredly and leaned into Mark’s touch. He had a hunch that her confession held much more power than being about just her two friends. And he wanted to ask, the more he wanted to ask the more his heart picked up a beat in his chest.

“Huh, I think the only people who did not know they love each other are Jonathan and Leena.” He declared instead, locking his eyes with hers. Unbeknownst to him, his other hand gained a free will to intertwine with Samantha’s fingers. Mark wanted to stop. He wanted to stop his body from gravitating towards hers.

“Thanks for the chat,” Samantha laughed and ignored the burning in her chest and the buzzing in her head altogether. If she were drunk, she would have blamed it all on the alcohol, and she would have justified herself for the reason it was so scorching to look into Mark’s orbits.

Mark brought his head to rest against her shoulder and the sudden contact set her skin on fire. The devil on her shoulder wanted Mark to rip her shirt so he could touch her better.

“So, I promised Leena I’d get her 30 minutes to freely talk to Jonathan,” Samantha dismissed the dangerous thought to make space for dirty ones. Dirty ones that wouldn’t leave her longing in the morning. “Do you think we could give them that?”

“I…” Mark murmured and pushed himself away, his hand still protecting her cheek. “I want to kiss you, so, so bad.”

“What are you waiting for?”

I want to. And I can’t.

If I kiss you now, I am afraid I’ll fall in love with you.

Samantha untangled their fingers to reach up to his face. Tips of her fingers set ablaze.

Mark sighed and glued their foreheads together.  Their noses were brushing against one another, and Samantha could feel each inspiration Mark took into his chest. “I cannot make love to you and leave the next day like I am the worst scum to have ever walked this Earth. I am not that guy.”

Samantha was not sure she understood the breathy words gliding out of Mark’s mouth. She was dazzled by the wording he chose.

“You aren’t making love to me Mark. We are having sex, it is just sex.”

A modest scoff carried Mark’s silhouette to wrap his arms around her frame. He felt Samantha’s body rigid in his embrace. Mark couldn’t let her see the disappointment nesting in his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to believe in the disappointment nesting in his eyes. He went ahead and assumed a miscalculation. He had to set himself straight.

I guess it is just sex.

“Jonathan asked me how’s sex with you.”

Samantha’s chest deflated helplessly. The sudden hug and the hasty words made her afraid and nervous Mark would want to go on with his life, that he would put a stop to them. She did not want him to put a stop to them. “So? What’d you tell him?”

“Nothing.”

She furrowed her brows.

“But I am going to tell you how sex with you is.”

Mark pulled away from the hug to face her, resting his left hand against the door, the other prepared to do a demonstration on her body. Samantha could not tell how he was feeling, what he was thinking. He looked stoic.

“If I kiss you right here, behind the lobe of your ear,” Mark traced his index along her skin and Samantha felt like he could ignite it “you’ll gasp. Grab my hair and pull me into you.”

Mark’s words were even, collected. His eyes were glued to each piece of her body he was busy with. Reading her like an open book. “If I cup your breasts,” Mark ran the back of his finger over her clothed breast, a moan eluding from her lips “you’ll moan. Like you did just now.”

His hand travelled to her hip, tips of his fingers digging into the fabric of her trousers. She was unlucky it had such a thin texture. “If I grab you by your hips, this is the part where I usually slide myself inside you and you nip your fingers into my back. “

Mark brought his free hand to cusp her cheek and prompt her to look at him. By all means, Samantha was expecting to recognize anything comparable to lust, carnality. What she found instead was a stubborn tenderness that was a stranger to simply having sex.

I want to make love to you.

“Mark?” she whispered when he didn’t move.

“Will you be mad at me if we don’t have sex tonight, princess?” he stated, loosening his clasp on her hip, but caressing her cheek with his other thumb. “I am tired and I left Milo alone too much.”

Against her will, Samantha let out a whimper. Mark took her entire essence and played with it in his hands, reassembling it at his will in mere minutes. In such a short period, Mark took his time to memorize her characteristics, her reactions, and her feelings. Mark took his time to make an effort on how to please her. He never did what Mark did.  

I don’t want you to go, Mark.

“Sure, absolutely. I understand.” She nodded, placing her hand above his. “When are you, uhm… when are you flying out?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“When will you be back?”

Why would I want to know?

Mark chuckled and admired her for a moment. He was aware he was leaving her hot and bothered. He did not assume for a moment that she was inquiring for any other reason.

God are you beautiful.

“It’s going to be three long weeks, give or take. You’re going to have to find a replacement for me.”

I hope you don’t find a replacement for me.

Samantha giggled. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

The phone in Mark’s pocket buzzed up with messages. He wanted to pull away, but Samantha kept his hand in place. “Kiss me goodbye at least?”

The night highway was chasing pointlessly after the black van, transporting Mark and his group to the airport. Mark’s eyes were aimed at the blurry lights, the hues of orange and red cutting through the depth of the sky. He pulled over the hood of his sweatshirt and checked his phone. Still devoid of any messages.

Jinyoung was chatting with the others when he noticed abruptly Mark did not join the lively discussion. He stealthily excused himself from the group, with a little help from Jackson to keep the others at bay from questioning too much.

“Hey,” Jinyoung plopped himself into the seat next to Mark. The latter snapped from the whirlwind of his thoughts.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I think you should tell me what’s up, Mark.”

Mark laughed and turned his body towards the other. “That obvious?”

“A bit.” Jinyoung agreed. “Have you heard from her yet?”

The other shrugged his shoulders. “Nope. We didn’t, you know, do anything. We just went out with her friends. Intense guys, lucky me I have a bit of training from y’all.”

“But?” Jinyoung questioned, still leaving Mark to his own pace. “She must’ve been a bit disappointed you never did anything.”

Mark tilted his head to look out the window. He wished his thoughts would blurry like the reality on the highway. “Yeah, she must’ve been.”

“And you? Were you expecting anything to happen? Did you kiss her, I don’t know, goodbye?”

Mark was a bit shocked by her request. Still, against his better judgement, he drew in closer, to seal the distance between their lips. “You are irresistible, you know that?”

Jinyoung just knew something was bothering Mark. Maybe regret, or maybe repentance.

“No, I didn’t kiss her.” Previous chapter Next chapter

[write-it-good-imagines]

the cat looking up at jackson wang it's just... beautiful

Wanted to make an edit and hang it on my wall but it seemed dramatic